


Coming Undone

by This_is_it



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Clothed Sex, Drinking, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hannibal AU, Humor, M/M, Roommates, Sexual Identity, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Spacedogs, Strangers to Lovers, Strippers & Strip Clubs, not much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12222015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_it/pseuds/This_is_it
Summary: Nigel's escape from Bucharest lands him as a begrudging roommate to a strange little man with stars in his eyes.





	1. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *warning for slight abilist slur in this chapter only

Nigel stood in the doorway, paused in confusion. After a few moments he rubbed his face in frustration, feeling mildly like pulling out his hair. He’d just come in from his afternoon cigarette walk, something he was already irritable about having to do in the first place. When he’d returned after an hour or so he found the entire apartment smelling like fresh paint— thick, sour and heavy.

“Adam?” He called out.

He heard a soft thud from the wall attached to the bathroom, followed by the sounds of shuffling plastic.

Nigel shrugged off his coat and toed off his shoes, before crossing the room for the thin hall.  The bathroom door was closed, but the light was on.  He raised his knuckles and knocked.

“Adam?” He tried again.

When he only heard a few sounds of movement, he tried the handle.  The door opened about a foot before hitting something hard with a thud. From the other side, Adam gasped slightly, and dropped something hard to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Nigel asked, trying to keep the alarm from his voice.

“Oh.  Hi Nigel. I’m painting the bathroom.” Adam responded, carefully sliding down what Nigel now saw was a short ladder.

Nigel looked down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Why?”

Adam dragged the ladder away to open the door fully. He stood in the center of the half-painted room, smudges of black paint coating his fingers, smearing across his shirt, and splashed onto his jeans. He even had a brush of it across his cheek.

“You’re painting our bathroom…black?” Nigel asked, his eyes slightly wide as he took in the deep color soaking into the walls.

"Oh no,” Adam responded, shaking his head. “No, this is a very deep green, with some shades of red, blue and purple. It’s to mimic the aurora that appeared in the night sky above the Mesa Lab in Boulder Colorado after a geomagnetic storm in 2003. It’s generally believed that the photograph capturing it is the most accurate coloration of space-”

“You’re painting our bathroom black?” Nigel interrupted, pushing his bangs back.  

Adam paused for a moment, turned and looked at the walls, then back to Nigel. “Um…yes.”

He bent to pick up the paintbrush he had dropped, before turning back to the tray of paint sitting on the counter.

Nigel looked down to see the splatter of paint the dropped brush had splashed against the side of the tub and door.

He sighed. “At least open the goddamn window, you’ll fuckin’ pass out soon if you don’t. The whole place smells like a fucking chemical waste factory.” He grumbled before padding away to the kitchen.

“Nigel, there’s no such thing as a chemical waste factory, that would imply that the factory’s main purpose was to produce waste, which really doesn’t -”

Nigel stopped listening as he opened the fridge to grab a beer. This goddamn kid was going to drive him insane.  If it wasn’t for the messy deal Darko had worked out for him, he would have picked up and left the second he met Adam.  

-

The deal, among other things, keep him out of jail, and sent him the fuck out of Bucharest, which at first seemed like a dream. Towards the end there, he would have done nearly anything to get to safety, as the Romanian police were looking to skin him alive.  And it was clear Gabbi didn’t give two shits about him. He wanted to move far from all the bullshit, hide away to lick his wounds.

His part of the deal was simple. All he had to do was be the face of some bullshit company while Darko’s men moved huge amounts of ecstasy and heroin into the growing rave scene in New York City. Fucking easy as shit to sit around and pretend to run a shipping company.

Darko had acquired the company after some rich, dying fuck put it on the market, hoping to have a little money to leave his son.  But he died over a year ago, leaving his business on the market, and in the hands of the family lawyers.  It took weeks of negotiation between Darko and the lawyers to agree on the terms and conditions, but after some months _Armhurst-Raki Freight International_ belonged to them. In the bigger picture of the whole operation, Nigel’s role was rather small, running some of the logistics in America, making sure nothing was suspicious, and no ground workers got greedy. Which was how Darko pitched it to him. However he failed to mention the other half of Nigel’s assignment, that is, until they were sat in the car outside the airport.

Apparently the old bastard had gone a little fucked in the head, as among his short list of demands to seal the sale was that someone “of reputable background” had to take his place living with his adult son who had some type of mental issue. Only for a short time, to help him transition to living alone after the death of his father.

“You want me to do fucking _what_?” Nigel asked, turning in his passenger side seat to glare at his business partner, his cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Just for eighteen months. The guy just needs a little company.”

“No way. I am not fucking doing that. Are you kidding me?  _Jesus_.” Nigel rolled his eyes and looked out the window at some old lady crying.

“Nigel, come on-”

“No.” He snapped his head around, starting to get angrier. “Find someone else.  Hire a fucking hooker to keep him company.”

Darko sighed, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the middle console. “This is fucking important.  I can’t trust any of my men with it.”

“So fucking kill the kid. Problem solved.” Nigel shrugged.

“The old fuck’s lawyers have a city social worker on their payroll. He’s going to check in every three weeks. And if something isn’t right, the deals fucking off. The company gets sold to FedEx.”

Nigel slammed his head backwards. “You signed a deal with that kind of fucked up stipulate? Are you out of your mind?”

Darko growled. “Do you know how fucking hard it is to set up this operation? How many viable international shipping companies do you think there are on the market in New York, Nigel? I didn’t have a fucking choice, it was this or going back to shoving it up our goddamn assholes.”

“So you get to stay here with the club, banging strippers and snorting coke, and I get to go play babysitter with some grown ass retard?”

“He’s not retarded, man.  It’s called Asperger’s.  He’s just a little odd, but he has a job and all so you don’t got to take care of him. Just be around every three weeks to lie to the social worker.”

“Hasn’t the old man been dead for years? Why does the kid need someone now?”

“That’s what I tried to argue. But it was just part of the will, and the lawyers wouldn’t budge.  Apparently before he died the seller was very specific. It just took longer to sell his company than he’d planed. Look, it won’t be that bad.  At least the kid won’t be crying a lot or anything.”

“Fuck you,” Nigel growled, snubbing out his cigarette, refusing to meet his eye. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that, brother.” Darko held up his hands.

“I’m not your fucking brother.  You’re a real piece of shit for not telling me sooner.  Or even asking.” He was quickly gathering his papers and bag at his feet.

“Hey, look,” Darko reached out and pushed him backwards into his seat, something he knew Nigel hated. “I got you the fuck out of dodge, ok? You’d be rotting in Rahova if it weren’t for me. Don’t fucking forget it.”

Nigel glared back, before grabbing his things and getting out of the car without another word.

* * *

When they’d first met, neither talked much.  Adam barely met his eye, shuffled around the apartment to show him to his room, where the kitchen was, the bathroom, the cleaning supplies.  Nigel only grunted his responses, still wildly frustrated with how this turned out for him, taking most of his anger at Darko out on the kid, who didn’t seem too thrilled to have him there anymore than he was.

“Things have to stay clean around here,” Adam explained, when he’d finished the tour. They were stopped in the main living room. “I like a certain amount of order, and that extends into physical sanitation.”

Nigel rolled his eyes, reaching in his front pocket for his pack of smokes.  He began to wander, looking at the bookcase, the sofa, the table with stacks of magazines.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a fucking slob,” he grumbled.

Adam wasn’t watching as Nigel fished out a cig and placed it between his lips.  It wasn’t until Nigel turned around that Adam noticed, his eyes widening.  

“No! No. No smoking,” he seemed to be getting worked up, so with a huff Nigel returned it to the pack.

“Alright, alright. God.”

Without checking to see if Adam had calmed down, he picked up his few bags off the ground and pushed past him into his room. He shut the door behind him without another word to Adam, exhaling deeply.

He looked around the bare room cast in grey shadows from the late afternoon light; it looked scrubbed clean of whoever lived there before him.  Nigel assumed it was the kid’s father. Now there was nothing but a bare, full mattress pushed to the back corner, a window and a closet.  He wandered to the window, meeting the rather simple view of some trees crowding around a thin street.  He fiddled with the lock, then smiled to himself when he was able to push open the glass pane, inviting into the room cool fresh air filled with the hustling noise of a settling city. He pulled out his cig from earlier, leaning out the window to light it, feelingly mildly like a kid hiding his smoking from his parents.  He stood there for a few minutes, drinking down his fumes and enjoying the breeze, its quiet shuffle through the trees below.

When he finished, he stubbed out the cig, tossed it into the street below, and stepped away from the window, leaving it open to air out the room.  He wandered to the adjacent wall, and slid open the closet doors. Empty shelves, wide white spaces to hang his clothes, a handful of hangers shoved towards to the back. Nigel had to wonder what Adam did with all the stuff that must have been here before.

As night crowded darker, Nigel flicked on the light, coating the room in a faded yellow.  He began to unpack his suitcase, unable to shake the pervasive creeping of melancholy. Hating where he was, having no one in the city, worlds away from his old life of danger, women and drugs. And of Gabbi.

The thought rubbed raw against his heart. When it had finally gotten through to him she was gone, off in the arms of some scrawny pussy American, he was off the deep end.  Ready to fucking kill himself, and if it wasn’t for Darko wrestling that gun from him hours after they’d escaped the police, he probably wouldn’t be here. The jury was still out, for Nigel, if that would have been such a bad thing. 

He hated missing her, hated thinking about her soft skin, her tricky smile, the way her fingers danced for the cello. And what was worse, thinking about his own mistakes.  He had had months to come down from all the drugs he’d been on, and looking back on all the shit he did to her, to them, without the cloud of chemicals in his brain, made him feel sick. He was the one who ruined their marriage, he was the one who treated her like shit, who cheated, lied, got so caught up in his criminal games. He lost the only thing that ever mattered to him, and what did he have to show for it? No wife, no friends in the city.  Just a wad of cash, a rather small apartment on the other side of the world, shared with a weird little man who didn’t seem to want him there at all.

The nock at the door made him jump, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Nigel?” Adam called through the door.

“What?”  

“I’m about to make my dinner…would you like me to prepare two meals?  I don’t think you have any food.” Adam informed him.

Nigel’s first instinct was to say no, not liking to accept favors from anyone.  However, the gurgling in his stomach prompted him to reconsider. He sighed.

“Uh. Yeah, sure…thanks.”

He waited for a response, but only heard Adam’s fading footfall.   

An hour later found them sitting on opposite ends of the kitchen table, Adam not looking up from his meal of chicken and broccoli. Nigel couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made food for him since Gabbi was around, but thinking of her made a chord pluck low and sad in his chest. He cleared his throat.

“I’m going out tonight, gunna meet up with some people I’ll be working with.” Nigel wasn’t sure why he told him, but he figured this arrangement would require a certain amount of checking in.

Adam nodded, but didn’t respond, still not looking up from his food. Nigel sighed, brought his dishes to the sink before going back to his room to get ready for the night.  He knew of one club Darko had connections with, where a bunch of his future associates would be tonight. He also knew of the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol that would be shared with their new fearless leader. Anything to flush out the leftover burn in his heart, and the stifling air surrounding his new roommate.

* * *

He was gone the entirety of the night. When he finally found his way home, back to the right floor and door, finally got out the right fucking key, he stumbled into his new place. Groaning, he toed off his shoes, head pounding as the high faded with the sun’s rising. Aching to crawl into bed, he passed the kitchen counter. He paused. Sitting out waiting for him was a bottle of water, and two neatly placed aspirins.

Nigel felt a loopy, 5 am smile as he picked up the two pills and took them, along with the entire bottle of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Still writing in the Hannibal fandom, but decided to try my hand at fluffy romance for a change! (Not that La Vita Nuova wasn't syrupy sweet at times, and if you're a new reader I hope you check it out!) Anyway I hope you enjoy this little falling in love story I've been working on. I'll try to post chapters every day, if not every other day. Stay tuned for more spacedogs!


	2. A series of interactions

                That had been two weeks ago, and so far Nigel was learning a lot in the way of patience. Adam was sweet, but complex and full of idiosyncrasies. He was slow to trust Nigel, to start talking to him in full sentences.  He was fully aware of the deal his father had made with Nigel and his company, minus all the drugs in the background. He didn’t seem particularly fond of the idea, but seemed to be used to following his father’s directions.  But now that he was talking, Nigel wondered if he ever shut up. If he had to hear one more thing about the Hubble Space Telescope, or the developing theory on black holes he was going to snap.

                “So do you got a girlfriend or something?” Nigel asked, cutting off another long stream of monotone words from Adam.

                Adam looked up from the kitchen table, where he sat enthusiastically shoveling mac and cheese into his mouth.  Nigel sat on the sofa, across the room, with his own Italian take out in his lap. He had thought about picking up Adam something while he was out, but decided against it.  They weren’t that close, and besides the kid had all sorts of food particularities.  Such as only eating mac and cheese or chicken and broccoli for dinner every night. He explained once that it was familiar, a food he knew he liked and could depend on the same flavor repeatedly.

                “There was a girl, once,” Adam said, suddenly not nearly as talkative as he’d been.

                Nigel perked up, interested in Adam’s mood shift.

                “Yeah? What happened?”

                Adam shrugged. “We kissed and had sex.  She made me much calmer, helped me with my people skills. But she left. She said I was selfish to ask her to take care of me. That she didn’t want to be that person.”

                Nigel huffed out, leaning back against the sofa.

                “What a bitch,” he said, shaking his head and taking another bite of his sandwich.

                Adam’s eyes flicked up. “What?”

                Nigel met his stare and then smiled apologetically. “Sorry, man.  I don’t mean to call someone you cared about a bitch.  But from what I can tell you don’t fucking need to be taken care of by anyone.”

                Adam remained silent, dropping his eyes, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s…different than what most people think about me.”

                Nigel chuckled at that, reaching to the coffee table to grab his beer. “What do people usually think?”

                Adam shrugged. “They feel sorry for me, or get uncomfortable. I make people uncomfortable a lot.  Sometimes I talk too much.”

                “You could say that again,” Nigel mumbled, taking a long pull from the bottle in his hand.

                Adam smiled and nodded. “They feel sorry for me, or get uncomfortable. I make people uncomfortable a lot.  Sometimes I talk too much.”  

                Nigel looked blankly at him across the room, trying to understand why the kid repeated himself. When it finally clicked he laughed out loud. Adam furrowed his brow, still smiling, but not following the joke.

                “Did I say something wrong?” Adam asked, only slightly concerned, but enjoying Nigel’s smile anyway.

                Nigel wiped his mouth with a napkin, schooling his grin. “No, Adam. It’s just, ‘you could say that again’ is an expression. I wasn’t actually asking you to repeat yourself.”

                Adam thought about that, storing it away for later with a nod. “Ok.”

* * *

 

                Thunder grumbled over the city, rain painting the buildings and streets gray, drooling against the window. The living room was darkening with the evening, lights left off, forgotten by Adam who sat in front of the TV with rising panic.

                It was Wednesday night, meaning it was time to watch his pre-recorded program.  The History Channel had a weekly special interviewing random experts across all fields, exploring anything from sciences, arts and history. This week’s was supposed to be on the film industry, interviewing directors, producers and show runners, with behind the scenes access on how movies are made.

                So Adam had made his dinner, changed into sleep clothes, curled into the sofa, and went into his saved programs to retrieve the recording. However, as he scrolled through the titles, anxiety pinched in his chest when he found they ended with yesterday’s recording of Mr. Robot.  Nothing from today at 2:00, when the History Channel’s program aired. He felt his breath heaving heavier in his lungs; he _knew_ he had it set up to record, had double checked it last night before going to bed.

                Something tight climbed up his ribs as he glanced at the time. 8:44.

                This was disrupting his time to relax.  Worse, it was already past the schedule, pushing back the entire night- cutting into dinner, then bed time, which would lead to less sleep, disrupting his preset amount of hours he needed. What if he over slept, not waking up the next morning to his alarm because he had to stay up late, he would be late for work— then probably laid off— especially if he hadn’t called in late first— he had a class scheduled for 8:30—the students are going to be—

                “Adam!” Nigel’s voice halted the long, crashing stream of thoughts barreling in his mind. He hadn’t even noticed he’d slumped to the floor, curled his legs to his chest, his hands coming up to the sides of his head.

                He looked up, still feeling the panic shaking his arms.

                “What’s going on?” Nigel asked, still standing on the other side of the coffee table, not knowing what to do, not wanting to scare him.

                “I-It’s, no! No! It’s gone! I-I can’t- tomorrow—” Adam struggled to form words, but that didn’t stop him from getting louder, everything crowding too close.

                “Adam.” Nigel’s voice was more commanding this time, silencing Adam’s stuttering. “Use your words. What happened?”

                Adam looked over to Nigel, who crouched next to him, still about a foot away. He took a deep breath, slowly letting it go as he counted to ten. He kept his eyes closed as he began to explain as calmly as he could.

                “I recorded a show-History Channel’s _Exploration._ Which first aired August 2010, and continued to have six following seasons of 15 episodes, each with a running time of 44 minutes, except for season five which had-”

                Nigel let him continue as he sighed, noticing the encyclopedia talk seemed to be calming him down.

                “-but in December the show time was moved to 2:00PM, which is when I work-”

                “-so you recorded the show?” Nigel finished for him.

                Adam nodded helplessly, his brow furrowing. “I did. I know I did.”

                “So what, you can’t find it now?” Nigel guessed.

                “I know I recorded it,” Adam responded, voice in a whisper.

                Nigel reached for the remote, not knowing really anything about how to work TVs or cable boxes. He started pressing the controls, leafing through the recordings and settings.  After his brief, fruitless efforts he sighed and sat down on the couch, taking out his phone.  Adam sat silently watching, feeling his nerves settle with Nigel there trying to help him.  At least he wasn’t alone in his panic, and as it slunk away he realized he could continue to eat, and still make his bed time at the end of the hour anyway, even if that meant missing his show. The logic that followed was comforting as well.

                Nigel got up and looked closer at the cable box, then the remote, then back at his phone.  He typed some more information into his screen.  Adam watched Nigel try a few different things, following some instructions on his phone and getting mildly frustrated when things didn’t match up between the two. Adam sat himself on the sofa, beginning to cut into his food.

                “It’s ok if you can’t find it,” Adam comforted, noticing Nigel scratching the back of his neck in irritation.

                Nigel grunted something back but didn’t turn around, continuing to go into different menus on the DVR. He pressed a few buttons on the cable box itself, and then turned it all off completely.  When he turned it back on, he navigated into recordings, and there it was, stacked right above last week’s _Mr. Robot_. When Adam read the recovered title he smiled wide, and laughed out loud when Nigel turned around with an over-done smug bow, tossing the remote playfully back to Adam.

                “You’re welcome,” he teased, landing back on the sofa next to him.

                When Adam’s smile fell, Nigel asked what was wrong now.

                “It’s just…it’s too late to watch this now. I have to go to bed in half an hour.”

                Nigel shrugged. “Or what?”

                “Or I won’t get eight hours of sleep, and I might not wake up on time for work.” He explained as if it were obvious.

                “Adam I rarely get eight hours, and I’m doing fine,” Nigel pushed.

                Adam smiled a little. “You also sleep away the whole day.  I can’t be late for work.”

                Nigel sighed, unsure why he was pushing this.  He just enjoyed the kids company, and didn’t want to spend the rest of the night alone.  He considered his options.

                “How’s this, I promise I’ll wake up tomorrow when you do to make sure you get up?  Then you have two alarm clocks.”

                He didn’t have anything pressing planned for the next day, but maybe waking up early would get him over to the warehouse a little earlier. No use sleeping in so late every day, as Adam had so lovingly pointed out.

                Adam thought about this.  He did really want to watch the show, and Nigel had gone through all the trouble to find it for him.  If anything, it would calm his anxiety to do what he had planned to do for the night, even if it was pushed back a bit.  Plus he’d get Nigel’s company, something he was getting increasingly interested in.

                Eventually he nodded slowly. “Okay.  If you promise that.”

                He curled his legs under him, pulling the blanket from the back of the sofa over his shoulders. Nigel smiled and dipped his head.

                “Alright, so what are we watching?” He asked.

                Adam rolled his eyes. “I told you- It’s called _Exploration_ , a show that interviews professionals in various fields and shows how they operate.”

                Nigel sighed, leaning deeper into the sofa. “That sounds boring, Adam. Can’t we watch something else?” He asked, mostly teasing, knowing Adam wouldn’t budge on his hard fought for program.

                Adam was going to start complaining, but when his look towards Nigel was met with a smile, he found himself smiling too.  Something warm, and companionable between them. He wished somewhere in him they were sitting closer together on the sofa.  Adam turned back to the screen and pressed play.

* * *

                “Motherfucking goddamn piece of cardboard bullshit fucking-”

                “Nigel?” Adam’s sudden voice startled Nigel out of his cursing tirade.

                “Yes, Adam?” A low patience level punctuated his tone.

                “What-um- what are you doing?” He asked from the door frame, surveilling the cluttered mess taking up most of the room on Nigel’s floor. Random boards of wood were strewn about, with small piles of metal pieces and screws. Nigel sat in the middle of all this, pushing his bangs back in frustration as he stared at a wrinkled instruction manual in blue font with tiny diagrams.

                “Clearly I’m fucking busy,” Nigel growled, without looking up, instead reaching for the shorter of two boards closer to him.

                “If this is A, then that motherfucker over there has to be C,” he mumbled to himself.

                “Would you like some help?” Adam timidly offered, not wanting to annoy Nigel more, but already recognizing a few flaws the older man’s attempt to construct what looked to be a dresser by the instructions.

                Nigel huffed and looked up, his sudden intensity aimed at Adam catching the smaller man off guard.

                “You think you could do this fucking better?” He snapped.

                “Yes, I believe I could,” Adam answered, his tone a-matter-of-fact.

                The kid’s confidence made Nigel smirk for a second, giving him a once over, before shrugging. He scooted over on the floor as an invitation to join.

                Adam moved into the room, sitting cross-legged next to Nigel on the floor, their knees nearly touching.  He immediately started taking apart the little progress Nigel had made.

                “Hey, hey, hey,” Nigel complained, “What the fuck? That took forever!”

                “Well it was wrong, Nigel. See?” Adam pointed to the diagram in front of them. “I need piece A” he said, not looking up from the slots on the side of the wood panel in his hands.

                “Well good fuckin’ luck finding that,” Nigel mumbled, looking around again at all the nearly identical boards scattered around them.

                “They’re marked, Nigel. The stickers should be on the top left corner,” Adam explained, his voice seeming more monotone with his concentration on taking out the screw pieces Nigel had put in.

                Nigel squinted, not believing Adam. “There’s no fuckin’ way,” he mumbled, looking around him. 

                He grabbed the closest one, examining it.  No sticker. He was about to gloat to Adam, until he turned it around in his hand, and low and behold the top left corner had a small white sticker.

                “Goddamn it,” he growled, handing the board to Adam.

                “Ok, now you can organized the connecting pieces you spilled everywhere,” he instructed, picking up a small metal piece and placing it in the pre-drilled hole in the wood.

                Nigel complained but surprisingly did as he was told, wanting to be done with this whole headache.  They continued like this, Nigel crawling around the floor to retrieve the pieces Adam pointed to.  Adam began to smile as they went on, enjoying the technicality of putting the piece together, in addition to Nigel’s grumpy company.  He began to think they made a good team, and enjoyed the way Nigel listened and asked questions. He liked being helpful, spending time with the other man, able to steal glances here and there as Nigel concentrated on screwing in something or another. He admired his stern face, soft eyes, sharp features and thin lips. Once Nigel caught onto being watched.

                “You checking to make sure I don’t fuck up?” He asked, but smiled.

                “No, just looking at you,” Adam responded, then turned to grab a screwdriver from behind him. Nigel’s following silence made the younger man’s face feel hotter, realizing what he’d just said. Normally he didn’t take too much notice to these sorts of interactions, but something about the surprise in Nigel’s face made him feel a buzzing in his chest he wasn’t used to at all.


	3. Plans

               The following month passed quickly, Adam waking up hours before Nigel, leaving for work before Nigel’s gotten out of bed. Every three weeks the social worker checked in on them to find their relationship and situation functioning as was planned. Nigel normally got home around the time Adam was in the kitchen in his pajamas, making his dinner.  Sometimes he was chatty as hell, asking Nigel about his day, telling him (unasked) about his own.  And sometimes life seemed to be harder on him, and he all but ignored Nigel’s presence in the room.  On those days Nigel found him more bearable, and yet slowly grew curious as to what was going on with him.  When his words weren’t going a mile a minute, Nigel wondered how fast his thoughts were going, and to where. Not that he would ever ask, but whenever he did pull a smile from him, or got him to look up from whatever he was concentrating on, Nigel felt warmer somehow. Like a personal win. He had to admit, even if it was only to himself, that the kid was growing on him. At least he didn’t dread coming home anymore, and sometimes even looked forward to it.

* * *

               The late afternoon sunshine spilled into their 7th story window, bringing with it the rustling sounds of the city going about its Friday. The light fell in a wide beam over Nigel’s top half, warming his chest and prompting him to swing a cool pillow over his sweaty face and roll over. 

               He had fallen asleep late last night on the sofa, stoned out of his mind, after a healthy dinner of an entire family-sized tray of Chips Ahoy, washing it down with Adam’s entire jug of sweetened iced tea. He’d been watching some nature documentary about bears, his eyes glazed over and mind being blown by their ferocity and grace.  At least that’s how he felt at the time, until he fell asleep with a cookie still in his hand.

                The peaceful silence of the empty apartment was interrupted by Adam’s key in the door, the creaking of its old hinges, and then the rustling of his coat and plastic bags.  He walked across the entrance area and around the high-top bar which separated it from the kitchen, his footsteps falling heavy against Nigel’s ears. Nigel grumbled and dug his head deeper into the couch’s cushion, stretching his legs out and swinging an arm over the pillow on his head.

                “Good afternoon, Nigel,” Adam greeted when he saw Nigel moving.

                Nigel grunted in response.

                Adam began unpacking his bags, crinkling the plastic loudly, opening and shutting the squeaky cabinets, clomping his shoes across the hardwood.  Nigel tried to ignore it, to keep his eyes shut and fall back into unconsciousness, but when Adam dropped a can of tomato soup on the ground, Nigel couldn’t take it.  He growled, throwing his pillow to the other side of the couch.  He stared up at the ceiling with a disgruntled huff.

                “Adam,” he growled.  “Do you have to make so much fucking noise?”

                Adam slowed his movements, setting the can on the counter. “I didn’t say anything.” He defended, slightly confused, after a few seconds.

                Nigel sat up, groaning, rubbing his face. “You sound like a fucking pack of dogs in there.”

                Adam processed this, and after a few seconds laughed out loud in response, his smile wide because he was able to pick up on the metaphorical language. He went back to bustling about the kitchen, turning his back to Nigel.

               “But I’m not barking,” he played along, enjoying himself much more than Nigel was.

               Nigel rolled his eyes, unseen by Adam, and hoisted himself off the couch. He took a step before reaching his tense arms above his head, shutting his eyes and groaning as he stretched the muscles in his back, arms and legs.  Adam turned around at the same moment, pausing again when his eyes caught the sliver of stomach revealed. His eyes traveled the brushing of hair trailing between Nigel’s defined hipbones, dipping down under the low hanging jeans.

               When Nigel opened his eyes and swung his arms down, he noticed Adam staring, before the younger man caught himself and turned again. The back of Adam’s neck was slightly redder as he pulled a bag of apples from the white bag. Nigel continued to stand there, thrown off by Adam’s behavior.  Something warm coiled in his gut, accompanied by the tightening of anxiety. What the fuck was that?

               He didn’t say anything, instead shuffled into the small kitchen, walking behind Adam to the coffee machine. He tried not to notice Adam’s back tensing up, or the stiff movements he made as he put away more food. Nigel opened the top of the machine, removing the groggy old coffee grounds, before putting in a new filter.  He poured in the fresh grounds, grabbing the empty pot and walking around Adam to the sink. With the water filling he looked sideways at the other man, who caught onto being watched and smiled something small before turning away with a gallon of milk for the fridge. Nigel couldn’t help the tick of a grin at that, still put off somewhere in the back of his head at the seedlings of affection seeming to take root.

               “So…you’re home early,” Nigel commented, pushing that confusion from his thoughts.

               Adam nodded. “The planetarium closed early for some repairs they have to make to the main projector. I got to go home four hours early.” He explained.

               Nigel was back at the coffee machine, and after switching it on he turned around to lean on the counter, both hands behind him pressed against the edge.

               “Any big plans then?” He asked conversationally.

               Adam nodded, grabbing an apple and walking around the counter to sit at the high-top bar.

               “First I’m going to read my favorite book of essays by Stephen Hawking called _Black Holes and Baby Universes_ , it’s about how the black hole acts as the main clue to why and how the universe is expanding. It was published in 1994 by Bantam Dell Publishing Group, making it his third collection-”

               “And after you read the book?” Nigel interrupted, getting used to Adam’s encyclopedia rambling.

               Adam nodded, getting used to Nigel cutting him off when he talked too much.  He liked it when he did that, not afraid to let him know to slow down or get off a topic.  Most other people either started to ignore him, or let him continue to go on and on, all the while looking at him uncomfortably.

               The coffee maker started to grumble, filling the air with its roasted smell.

               “I’m going to masturbate in my room to the new porn DVD I got in the mail last week, and then take a bath with the bath bomb I bought today.  I like the way the water feels when I use them, it gets softer and makes my skin feel good.”

               Adam stopped talking when Nigel started a sudden fit of coughing, after apparently breathing in too hard that he choked on spit. After wheezing for his breath a few times and hunching forward, he straightened up, his face redder than before.

               “Adam, you can’t- it’s not…it’s fucking weird to talk to other guys about jerking it,” he sputtered, looking uncomfortable for the first time since Adam met him.

               Adam furrowed his brow, not following. “Why? Masturbation is a fairly common practice among men.”

               “I know, but we don’t fucking talk about it like that.”

               Adam paused, then, “Are you mad at me for masturbating? I could masturbate when you’re not home if that makes you more comfortable.”

               Nigel scrunched up his face. “Jesus, man, stop fucking saying ‘masturbate’. And no, you can do it when I’m here- I mean, you can do it whenever you want, Adam. I just don’t want to fucking hear about it.”

                “Ok.  I’m sorry.” Adam seemed to move past it, taking another bite of his apple.

                Nigel turned his back to face the ready coffee, hiding his discomfort.  Since when did he give a shit about other dudes talking about getting off? He and his old friends used to joke and tease each other about it all the time. But when Adam said it he felt uncomfortable, both too clinical sounding and weirdly intriguing. He’d never thought about the guy in any kind of a sexual situation, and now his mind’s eye couldn’t stop picturing what that would look like. His long fingers, his eyes squeezed shut, his skin misted with sweat. Before his imagination could get too carried away with whatever the _fuck_ that was, he pushed it violently from his mind.

                “Ok so. You’re gunna take a bath. Then what?” He wasn’t wildly interested in Adam’s schedule, but he wanted to move on with the conversation as fast as possible.

                “Oh.  Yeah, then I’m going to make dinner and watch the two episodes of Mr. Robot I have saved to the DVR. Then I’m going to go to bed.” Adam explained.

                “Busy night. You don’t usually take baths; is there a special occasion for such a luxury?” Nigel teased as he poured his coffee.

                “Well, it’s my birthday, so I-”

                Nigel turned, putting down the glass pot with a swift clink.

               “It’s your birthday?” He interrupted, incredulously.

                Adam nodded. “Yeah.”

                “Well fuck me,” He leaned against the counter again, shaking his head. “And all you’re doing is taking a bath?”

                “And reading _Black Holes and Baby Universes_.” Adam corrected.

                “Aw c’mon, man.  You gotta do something more than that. That’s like, super fucking boring.” Nigel argued.

                Adam smiled. “I like super fucking boring.”

                “Don’t you have any friends to take you out?” He asked.

                Adam’s smile dropped slightly. “Not really. People at work tend to avoid me. Besides this woman named Sandra who told me once over text message that she wants to eat my ‘little Italian sausage’.” He said using air quotes.

                Nigel barked a laugh then grinned at him. “Did you let her?”

                “Well I didn’t understand what she met, because I don’t have any sausage because I don’t like the way it feels in my mouth.  Then Harlan explained it meant she wanted to have oral sex with me.”

                Nigel took a few steps and leaned his elbows on the counter in front of him, a smirk tugging at his lips.  Now talking about women- that was well within his comfort zone.

                “Did you have oral sex with her?” He pushed, with a sly smile.

                 Adam smiled back, heart fluttering slightly under Nigel’s interested attention.

               “No. She wears too much animal fur and smokes a lot.” He crinkled his nose at the memory of her stale breath when she’d last leaned into his personal space at work.

               Nigel let out a huffed laugh. “So?  You don’t gotta marry her. Just get a little action.”

               Adam considered this, but then shook his head. “I don’t find a single aspect about her arousing.”

               Nigel shrugged and straightened up, shaking his head. “Suit yourself,” he spoke into his mug as he raised it to his lips.

                “Plus,” Adam added with a grin, “I’m not even Italian.”

                Nigel snorted into his coffee. He put down his cup and grabbed the small towel sitting on the counter to wipe what spilled onto his lip.  Adam watched with a wider smile, pleased at himself for making Nigel laugh.

                When he was more composed, Nigel sighed. “So you’re birthday, huh?” He asked.

                Adam nodded.

                “Would you _want_ to do something?” Nigel asked after a moment of silence between them.

                Adam thought about it for a moment. He figured it depended on what something was.

                “I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to making plans.” He responded.

                Nigel took a slow sip of his coffee. “Well I was planning on going to the bar, or maybe this club downtown.  But tonight’s a night for celebrating. I think we should go to a strip club.” He spoke, a mischievous smile appearing.

                Adam’s eyes widened. “With strippers?” He asked, his mouth going dry.

                Nigel laughed. “Yeah, with strippers.  You ever been to one before?”

                Adam hastily shook his head. “No.  I’ve been to bars and to clubs, though.”

                “You wanna go? I know this classy place on seventh. They do full nudity, and the bar’s great.”

                Nerves fluttered in Adam’s stomach, the idea of going somewhere new feeling heavy and wrong.  But Nigel was inviting him somewhere, and it was the first time someone wanted to do something with him in a long time. He hated the expanding pressure in his chest, the unknown suddenly laid out in front of him.

                “Could you tell me what the place looks like?” He asked, his voice a touch softer.

                “Sure.” Nigel shrugged, crossing out of the kitchen to sit back on the couch. “It’s a wide room, pretty dark in there, it takes a bit for your eyes to adjust.  The bar’s in the back, near the bathrooms. There’s a bunch of sofas and arm chairs, little circular tables, a few stages with poles where the dancers are. It’s a bit exclusive, so there’s not that many people.”

                Adam exhaled at that, feeling some of the pressure pull off his chest.  Larger crowds of social interaction made him feel slow, like he was always a step behind conversation. He couldn’t pick up on the right cues, and always seemed to miss something. The less people, the better.

                “Do I have to talk to the strippers?” he asked.

                Nigel grinned and shook his head. “I’ll do all the talking for you, how’s that?”

                “I sometimes have to go into the bathroom alone for a few minutes because I can get sensory overload with a lot of lights and loud music.” He warned, feeling slightly embarrassed for having to say so.

                Nigel didn’t seem to mind at all, he only shrugged. “That’s fine.”

                Adam took another deep breath.  With his questions answered he started to get excited.  It seemed like a relatively easy task, a social mile stone he’d never had the occasion to pass. He wanted to feel accepted, liked.  Especially by Nigel, who seemed extremely kind to Adam for asking him to go out on his birthday.  It had been a long time since anyone celebrated with him, other than his father, who would buy him ice-cream cake and some new book. His dad knew Adam didn’t like going out, didn’t much enjoy trying new foods or hanging out with people, so he always planned quite nights in to celebrate.  This was only his second birthday without that, and going to the stripe club sounded a lot better than what he did last year, which was sit in the park and people watch until it got dark.

                Adam straightened up in his chair, placing his apple core on the counter top. “Can I still take a bath?” he asked.

                Nigel laughed. “Yeah, we can’t leave for a little while anyway, it’s still too early.”

                Adam hopped down from the chair, rounding the counter with his core to throw it away.

                When he turned back to Nigel he had a brilliant smile. “Then yes, Nigel, I’d like to go out to the strip club with you tonight for my birthday.”

                “Alright!” Nigel nodded once, his own chest feeling warmer at the idea of taking the kid out and showing him a good time. “Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get laid.” He said with a wink.

                Adam’s brow furrowed for a second, looking slightly startled at Nigel. After a few moments of processing he nodded with an ‘ah’.

                “You mean by someone else. Yeah, I hope so. It’s been a while since I’ve had sex. Anyway, I’m going to go into my room and read my book now. Then I’ll take a bath. Thank you for inviting me, Nigel.  I’m actually excited to go out.”

                With that, he crossed the room and disappeared down the hall, leaving Nigel alone to struggle with what he’d just said. _You mean by someone else_. What the hell had he thought Nigel had meant?


	4. An outing

By the time night had dropped over the city, Nigel had already had a decent amount of vodka, waiting as Adam readied himself.  After his bath, the younger man had disappeared into his bed room.  He emerged once to ask what type of clothing he could wear, and if jeans were allowed.  Nigel informed him to definitely not wear jeans.

Finally, Adam came out of him room, fidgeting with the collar of his dark purple button up, paired with a pull over vest and black slacks.  Nigel laughed out loud when he saw him, immediately pulling an insecure look from Adam.

“No, no, you look fine,” Nigel encouraged, pulling himself off the couch to stand before Adam. “It’s just, uh,” he reached down, pulling up at the hem of Adam’s sweater vest. “Maybe loose the Museum look for one night.”

Adam seemed distracted, taking a moment to process what Nigel was implying. “Oh.  Take off the vest. Ok.”

He stepped backwards and pulled the garment up and over his head.  As he began to fold it he turned on his heal, walking back into his room.  When he returned his hair was still ruffled, but the purple was working for his skin tone.

“Aright. Now un-tuck the shirt, Adam. This isn’t church.”

Adam smiled, holding in a bubbling chuckle at the idea of going to a religious service in a strip club.  But he followed his instructions, pulling out the tail and front of his shirt.

Nigel gave him a once over. The tipsy voice in his head had to admit the kid was fucking gorgeous.

 “Great,” he said. “Ready?”

Something light and jittery fluttered in Adam’s chest, but he smiled back at Nigel and nodded once.

* * *

Adam looked uncomfortable, to say the least. Nigel almost felt bad for suggesting they go out, seeing as how out of place he looked.  His wide eyes shown bright in the flashing blue and red, his skin softer in the purple and pink undertones.  His hands were stiff at his sides, picking at the fabric of the arm chair he sat in. His sweet drink Nigel persuaded him to get sat untouched, condensation gathering around the thin glass, decorated with a slice of pineapple.  His eyes nervously flicked between the dancers as if he didn’t want them to land for too long on the slim, curvy and topless women walking around in heals.

Nigel already had a good number of drinks in him, starting to feel that buzz in the base of his brain. He leaned across the circular table between them, holding out a wade of cash to Adam.

“Here, when those girls over there come here, you’re gunna have to give them some of this.”

Adam face dropped as he accepted the money. “Is she going to dance on me?”

Nigel flashed a smile, his sharp teeth slightly glowing in the light. “Yeah,” he nodded.

With that he raised his hand, gesturing to two barely dressed women who were making their way over.

“Hey baby,” the lighter skinned one greeted, reaching out and petting Nigel’s ashen hair.

He turned his wide smile to her, ignoring the fact that Adam seemed to be focused on him rather than the dark-haired beauty stood next to him.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Nigel greeted.

“You boys want some dances?” Adam’s girl asked, playing with her hair and smiling enticingly at Adam.

The blonde was already between Nigel’s legs, swinging her curves perfectly with the rhyme of the heavy base. Adam swallowed hard, finally pulling his eyes from Nigel’s hand gently making its way up her smooth back, turning to look at the woman beside him.  He let his eyes drop slowly down her body, looking at her nearly naked form. 

“Yes, please,” he nodded, fist tightening around the wad of cash in his palm.

“Oh, how sweet,” she responded, smiling at his innocent face, stepping forward.

As she began her dance, legs to either side of Adam’s, rubbing slow and mesmerizing along his taunt form, Adam kept his hands to himself.  Nigel had explained on the walk over that this place allowed touching, but some places don’t, so always make sure to ask first. He also explained that sometimes the girls took a liking to the clients and asked them to the back rooms, where they give discounts and practically anything was on the table.  Those type of things weren’t exactly legal, he explained, but high enough rollers came through that they rarely had any problems in that department. Adam didn’t like the sounds of that, the idea of breaking the law feeling sour in his stomach, but he didn’t say anything, only nodded.

As she continued her dance, he flicked his gaze over to Nigel through flashing warm tones and dim lights, and watched his small smile, his glossed over eyes. Adam watched those wide hands run across thick thighs and up her taunt stomach from behind. Adam felt himself aroused at the sight, never having seen Nigel so calm, relaxed, sexy.

“Hey big boy,” the woman whispered in his ear, pulling his attention back to his own lap dance.

“Hi,” Adam’s throat was dry as he spoke.

“You can touch me, handsome,” she encouraged, reaching for his free hand.  She took it, her skin soft, and placed it on her hip.  Adam felt the warm skin under his palm, felt her muscles shift as she swayed and grinded. He breathed deep, and let his hand travel down to the side of her thigh, then back up her waist.

“That’s it, baby, you like that?” She encouraged, seemingly genuinely interested in his attention.

“I do, you feel nice,” he told her, starting to enjoy his company.

“Good,” she purred, as she slide deeper into his lap.

Her booty shorts hugged perfectly, and she began grinding forward and backwards, rubbing hot and fast up against his growing erection.  Her hands holding folded around the back of his neck, she leaned back, continuing her bouncing and grinding.  His hands smoothed over her thighs, and up to support her back and she leaned even further. His eyes were trained on her bending form, the way the light caught on her exposed breasts, her skin practically glowing.  She smelt good too, he noted, something flowery and sharp, but he was having trouble placing the smell as her manicured nails massaged his neck.

Adam couldn’t pull his eyes away, but if he did, he would have saw Nigel’s jaw hung slightly open, eyes stuck on Adam’s panting chest. Nigel kept his hands on the woman sat with her rear grinding backwards into his own budding arousal, but he couldn’t help openly staring at Adam.  It was like he was transformed under those glowing pinks, gaze sultry and low, his lips parted and sweat forming at his brow.  Surrounded by topless women, a round ass in his lap, and Nigel was more interested in Adam’s hands exploring, his gaze shutting and opening, and most distracting, the long curve pushing upward from under his pants.

The song ended, and the girls both climbed off their laps. Nigel tilted his head up and closed his eyes, smirk tugging at his lips, as the girl leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.  With her so close he reached over and tucked a fifty into her bottoms.  When Adam saw this he followed suit.

“Thank you very much. That was exciting,” he told her.

“I’ll be around, baby, if you want anything more,” with that she winked, and sauntered off with the other dancer.

Nigel took a long sip from his drink, finishing it off.  “How did you like it?” he asked, unable to keep the flirtatious smile from his face.

Adam smiled back, finding himself leaning in towards Nigel. “I’m quite sexually aroused.” He told him.

If Nigel were more sober he’d have found that comment upsetting somehow, but the alcohol was pumping full forced, and he felt slow and heavy in a good way. So Adam’s comment felt funny, and attractive in its own way.  He liked the idea of Adam sexually aroused, and he liked the thought that he was the one to bring him here.

The night continues for hours, Adam getting up not too soon after to go to the bathroom for some time alone.  As he was gone, Nigel pulled out a small coke hitter, taking a few, discreet sniffs, before returning it to his pocket.  He ordered another drink for himself and Adam, surprised when he looked down to see Adam had finished his. Something close to pride at the sight, that his weird little friend had finished an entire drink, gotten a lap dance, and even had walked up to the runway to tuck a few bills into the dancer’s bra.  All in all, he was feeling really good about the night.

-

They stumbled out of the club sometime after four, or maybe five. Nigel had his arm slung around Adam’s shoulder for stability, as he had slight trouble getting one foot in front of the other. The coke buzzing through his brain didn’t help, making him feel jittery, like his senses were trying to be sharper than they could be, given all the alcohol he’d consumed.  The night was surprisingly warm, and bright red and blue neon lights lead their walk home, blurry in Nigel’s eyes, and stinging to Adam’s.  Adam had much less to drink than Nigel, but still straddled that border between tipsy and drunk. 

 "God that was nice,” Nigel breathed, a sloppy smile on his face.  It had been a while since he’d been surrounded by so many gorgeous women. The memory of the cute blond who’d given him multiple lap dances still played in his mind, her perfect tits waving around his face, wide hips sliding over him.

Adam hummed in agreement, smiling small, warmth radiating from low in his gut, not from all the beautiful women but from Nigel’s body pressing into his. Even if Nigel was smoking, surrounding them with a tart cloud. It was nice to be touched like this, comfortable, with someone he knew and trusted.

Nigel turned his head, misreading Adam’s silence. “You liked it, right?” He asked, his accent heavier under all the drinks.

Adam looked back, his heart jumping into his throat at that face so close to his, those amber eyes searching his face, the slope of his thin nose and lips. The creases lining his face from long hours in the sun, some scars inlayed across his cheeks from stories he’d never heard. The stubble casting small shadows down his square jaw. If Adam were a braver man, he would have leaned in, following that pounding urge, tasting what was offered. Instead he lowered his head, a slight flush rising over his cheeks.

“Yes. It was very enjoyable.” He responded, daring a glance down to see if Nigel’s slacks were still tented slightly.

Nigel followed his eyes, saw him distracted and focused on his bulge, and let out a bark of laughter. He let his own eyes trace over to Adam’s lap, black dress pants sporting that undeniable curve.

“I can see that,” he teased, mind sloshing lazily. 

Without letting his slow thoughts catch up with him, Nigel raised his head, letting his nose run beneath Adam’s jaw, letting his bottom lip brush a slow tug. He was warm, softer than he looked, and when Nigel noticed the stumble in his step, he smiled.  Sometimes the kid could be so fucking cute. In his state, the thought didn’t upset him at all.

“We didn’t get you laid, Adam,” He practically purred, unable to stop himself. There was something completely intoxicating on its own about getting Adam’s attention like this, all to himself. It was like a different type of high buzzing in his belly, stirring him forward.  Something he barely acknowledge sober, but seemed to be chasing drunk.

“That’s ok.  Sexual relationships are difficult for me.” He responded, looking up at the night sky beyond the tall buildings, distantly wishing they could see stars from under the city. His heart pounded and thoughts were dizzy trying to figure out what Nigel was doing.

“What makes them so hard?  You put the cock in, blow their mind, then you’re done.” Nigel explained, making himself chuckle at his elementary explanation.

Adam smiled then looked back at the sidewalk, watching their feet coming in and out of vision. “Yeah, except these days I don’t really want to do it like that.  And I’ve never done it the other way.”

Heat rose in Nigel’s neck. But anger stayed away, somewhere drowned. It was only a trickle of arousal that followed Adam’s sentence, he wanted to hear the guy talk more about sex.

“The other way?” Nigel prompted, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, pulling away from Adam to drop his cigarette butt onto the street.

“I quite enjoy prostate stimulate.  I uh, do it myself, sometimes. Can never get it exactly right though,” he looked up then, confused by Nigel’s blank expression. He met his eyes anyway, a look of total seriousness. “I need someone to do it for me.”

Nigel’s eyes were wide, several streams of thought crashing into each other at how dangerously close Adam’s words seemed to an invitation. What he imagined next caught him off guard, foreign from his regular fantasies of tits and pussies.  And yet, here he was, standing in the street in the middle of the night, unable to look away from this impossibly beautiful man with pale skin and bright cheeks, imagining him getting off by himself.  Imagining lube, and fingers and tight heat and breathy moans, all the while growing harder than he’d been the entire night of lap dances.

“Nigel? Are you alright?” Adam asked, stepping forward, worried if maybe something was wrong.  If he’d said something off, or if Nigel had took too much drugs or drank too much.

Nigel shook his head and closed his eyes, frustration and confusion bubbling behind whatever the fuck that just was. He wanted Adam to move closer, to keep pushing whatever desire burning under his skin.  He wanted, deeply, under all the booze, for Adam to keep talking about sex. But instead pride hardened his heart and he turned away with a huff.

“I’m fine.  I just want to go home,” he growled, stalking away.

* * *

 Some hours later, after a tense, silence walk back, Nigel had calmed down, the booze and sleepiness making it hard to hold onto any resentment. Plus Adam had done nothing wrong, making this all the more frustrating.

Adam quietly said goodnight, and thanked him again for taking him out, crossing the living room in front of Nigel.  Nigel didn’t look up as Adam passed, continuing to stare down at his shoes.  He didn’t say anything back either, not until Adam was practically out of sight. Something pulled in his gut, wanting to salvage whatever he dropped so suddenly on the pavement down the street from the club.

“Thanks for coming, Adam. It was the best night I’ve had in a while.”

He surprised himself, confessing an honesty he wasn’t used. 

He seemed to surprise Adam as well, who paused before brightening up. Nigel could easily make out his tired smile in the yellow hall light, and he felt warm. Comforted by their connection, as if nothing more had to be said.  As if Adam, brilliant universe-minded Adam, could read everything Nigel was thinking, could hear the shutters of his aching heart under the drugs, drinking and machismo.

“Goodnight, Nigel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Feedback would be great! :) (Also apologies for any errors. It's not beta'ed, but I tried to catch as much as I could)


	5. conversation

 

Almost a week passed before they were able to have a full conversation again. There were the stray ‘goodnight’s and ‘good morning’s, a few awkward dinners, but nothing to address the buzzing in either of their heads when they interacted. Adam yearned to know more about this man who so randomly came into his life. He wanted to know how he came to New York, if he knew his father, what he was running from when he drank so heavily every night.  And Nigel came to wonder about the little spaceman as well, what he did during the days. If he ever knew a woman’s touch before the club that night, if women were even his main interest. His comment that night on their walk home, about wanting different types of sex. Why he was wondering so heavily about Adam’s sexual history nagged at him, but he pushed it away, like everything else.

Tonight, though, Adam came home to find Nigel drinking in the living room, playing something soft and quiet from the record player’s speakers.  Adam didn’t recognize the language, but he assumed it was the same one Nigel rambled into his phone sometimes.  Nigel didn’t look up when Adam came in, only glanced over his bangs before pouring a tall drink and lighting a cigarette. Normally Adam would get on his case about it, but the somber energy in the room told him to hold his commentary.

“Sorry for smoking, Adam, it’s just…” Nigel trailed off.

 "What happened?” Adam asked, ignoring the apology.

Nigel chuckled without humor at Adam’s prompt way of asking, before taking a long drag and sauntering to the window.

“You ever been with anyone, Adam? Like really with them? Not just sex, but love and all that shit?” he asked, pulling open the window and leaning on the ledge to let his smoke fume out into the wind.

“I told you about Beth already.”

Nigel nodded. “That’s right.” He felt a little bad for forgetting one of their first conversations. “Well. Yes, that’s what happened. A long time ago.”

When it seemed like Nigel wouldn’t offer more, Adam put down his briefcase, toed off his shoes and disappeared into his bed room. Nigel figured he was running from emotional conversation, which suited him just fine. Except Adam emerged a few minutes later in his house clothes- blue plaid pajama pants and an oversized shirt with the little dipper consolation on it.

He shuffled into the room and sat on the sofa, turning around so he can face Nigel who still stood behind it at the window.

“Did she break your heart?” he asked bluntly. “Because I know that feeling. I never understood the phrase before Beth, always dismissed it as another metaphor I didn’t get. But then Beth happened, and I learned how real the break could be.”

Nigel listened, feeling the crystal ball of tension in his chest soften only a little.  It was nice to have the kid here, whatever that meant.

“Yeah. And you’re right, it’s as physical as a punch to the jaw,” as he spoke he rubbed his face as if remembering a time when that had happened too.

“Is that why you’re in New York?”

“Among other reasons.  It would take a lot more than Gabbi to chase me out of my own country. But it turns out Bucharest's entire police force was enough.” He was remembering the frantic chase, the hiding out in dark rooms where he cried for the first time and sweated out detox. The tense silences with Darko, the planning he didn’t give a shit about.

“You were kicked out?” Adam asked, not sounding at all alarmed at this news. The guy was rough, and Adam had already assumed that he had some type of dodgy past.

“Something like that. But only after…only after I found her with another man.” He nearly growled the last part, remembering the scrawny punk, remembering the blackmail and the blood. One of his biggest regrets before leaving was not killing him, if only to get the image of Gabbi in his arms out of his head every night.

“Oh.” Adam responded, not accustomed to that kind of betrayal, so unsure how to react. He remembered Beth’s lie to him, his overreaction and their fight.  He had no idea what he would have done if he’d caught her with someone else.

"I’m not a good man, Adam.” Nigel said out of the blue.

Adam didn’t respond. Nigel put out his cigarette and rounded the sofa to sit on the armchair catty-corner to the sofa.

“Those two…I guess…I don’t know.” He didn’t finished his thought, instead electing to take a long swallow from his stiff drink.

Silence took over, the two lost in their own thoughts, before Nigel sighed.

“I was the bad guy in their story, Adam. I did mean things to them. Things Gabbi will never forgive me for.”

Adam thought about this. “Well it sounds like they did some bad things too. Did they have sex?”

Nigel grimaced. “Yes. She was supposed to be my wife.”

Nigel felt guilty, even now, to be saying these things to Adam without telling him the full story. But how could he? Too much happened between them, he’d done so much to Gabbi before she left him. It wasn’t her fault, even if it felt good to have Adam on his side.

In a smaller voice Adam said, “You were married?” Something about that didn’t sit well with him, made something glow green in his chest.

Nigel shrugged. “Up until I left. And then today she sends me these,” he said, lifting a manila envelope off the coffee table and flopping it in front of Adam.

He didn’t know what was making him so talkative; a Nigel of past times would have hidden the papers away, burned them, not share them with the world. But he figured this wasn’t the world, this was Adam.

Adam opened the envelope and looked over the documents. “These are in a different language.” He stated.

Nigel had forgot, and grinned at his mistake. “Romanian. They’re divorce papers.  That little hand written note in the corner is from her. All it says ‘move on, please’, the bitch.”

Adam nodded, looking at the writing anyway, distantly enjoying the matrix of symbols he couldn’t decipher.

“I think you should sign it and send them back. With your own note that says, ‘I did’” he offered, looking up to meet Nigel’s eye.

“You think I should end my marriage?” Nigel couldn’t help the touch of anger swelling behind his words. This was Gabbi they were talking about. ‘Til death does them fucking part and all that.

“You deserve better than someone who doesn’t love you, Nigel. I learned that, and maybe you should too.”

“Well what the fuck do you know?” he growled, snatching the papers back.

Adam took a deep breath, not liking the hostility behind Nigel’s tone. He thought maybe he should leave, so he stood up.

“No, no wait,” Nigel calmed, “I’m sorry. It’s just…letting go of a lot.” He sounded so defeated that Adam sat back down. He adjusted his t-shirt hem waiting for Nigel to say more.

But he didn’t. They sat in silence for a while longer, Nigel sipping on his drink and staring at the papers. Adam looking down at his shirt, wondering what the proper etiquette was in this situation. He wanted to be consoling but his advice seemed to be upsetting Nigel.

“What do you want, Nigel?” Adam asked, looking up for the first time in nearly a half hour.

Meeting Adam’s bright blue eyes, Nigel felt a lurch in his chest, something pulling him so fast and hard out of his burnt mood. Adam’s clean, bright face, his mouth and pushed back curls. Suddenly the only thing he could think of to answer was ‘you’, and that scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

Then he remembered the little gift he’d picked up at the liquor store for Adam, and decided now was a perfect time to change the subject. Because what he wanted was as unfathomable as fog over murky water.

He stood up without a word, walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. He carried a tall, smooth white bottle over the Adam, offering it to him.

“You want…Rum?” Adam asked, trying to read the gold-lettered word on the bottle.

Nigel smiled. “I want you to drink this. It’s called Rumchata. It’s good, very sweet. Like a milkshake. I figured since you hated all the drinks at the club, you might like this.” He shook it in front of Adam to encourage him to take the bottle.

“I don’t like new things,” Adam warned, taking the bottle and turning it over in his hands.

“You’ll like this, Adam. Trust me,” Nigel responded, turning for the kitchen again to get a small glass for Adam. He put one ice cube in it that nearly took up the whole glass, before returning.

“I used to drink something like this at Christmas when I was a kid. It’s really easy, don’t worry.” He said, gently taking the bottle from Adam to pour some into the cup.

He handed the glass to Adam, before setting down the bottle. Adam looked at the milky liquid inside with suspicion, swirling it around in the glass.

"Not in America, but yeah. C’mon, try it! I’ll take a drink of mine at the same time ok?” He lifted his own glass.

Adam grimaced but raised his glass with him.  Nigel caught his gaze, and held it, the two sat across from each other with raised glasses, something glowing between them.   

“To moving on,” Adam toasted.

Nigel nodded slowly in agreement.

 “Noroc,” he toasted in Romanian.

They both took a sip, Nigel’s eyes trained on Adam for a reaction. Adam’s eyes widened as soon as the soft flavors of cinnamon and cream slid down his throat.

“This is delicious!” His smile was brilliant when he looked to Nigel.

 Without another word he drank what was left in his cup before lowering it with a goofy smile, some of it on his upper lip. Nigel had to shove away the impulse to wipe it away. His affection for the kid seemed to be growing exponentially, and he prayed it was the bottle of Jack in his gut doing it.

They both sat and drank for the rest of the evening, Adam filling up his cup again and again with the smooth liqueur, and Nigel enjoying the way Adam’s face grew blushed after all his drinks. By the time his bedtime came around, He was hiccupping quietly, and lulling his head.

“I can’t believe you almost finished that bottle. That shit’s expensive!” Nigel teased, well over the line of intoxication.

“It’s so good! It tastes like…Christmas as a kid,” he noted, his eyes closing here and there.

That made Nigel smile again, feeling as soft and loopy as Adam looked.

“Well I’ll buy you as much as you want, gorgeous.” He told him, not noticing the pet name before it was too late. Something in him clenched at that, calling another man gorgeous, but where was the lie? The kid was a fucking model, looking like a peevish young god laid out on the sofa all for Nigel.  That thought made him clench tighter, but the alcohol was working to loosen the gnarled grip around his heart.

“You can buy it for me whenever you want,” Adam told him, noticing the pet name and warming something hotter than the alcohol in his belly.  He liked the idea of Nigel buying him things, of Nigel thinking of him in the store, of Nigel calling him sweet things and taking care of him. These were all silly fantasies he admitted, but he felt loose enough to let them dance around his swirling vision.

Nigel stood up, swayed a little, and then sauntered into the kitchen to grab more ice.  When he turned around, Adam was directly behind him. There faces a heartbeat away, Adam’s all lit up with bright eyes and wet lips, red cheeks and sweat glistening on his forehead. Impossible. Impossibly close, impossibly beautiful.

"Thank you for the drinks, Nigel,” he spoke, his breath on Nigel’s lips tasting like warm nutmeg.  It took every ounce of mental ability left in Nigel to not lean forward and taste more. He was out of his mind, heart racing and thoughts crashing into one another.

Before he could make some dumb comment about personal space he didn’t really care about, Adam was gone, turned around and swayed into his bedroom.

That night they both went to sleep feeling as if their bed was a touch emptier than normal.


	6. An interruption

Nigel swayed as he struggled to find the right key on the ring. No matter how many times he thought he found the right one, the damn thing wouldn’t budge in the hole. He growled impatiently, trying them all one more time. With hooded eyes he finally got the right key in place, and swung open the door gracelessly.

He stumbled into the dark flat, struggling to remove his coat and shoes. The spinning room and blood pumping too hard behind his eyes weren’t helping. What the fuck did he take? He had a vague memory of the early parts of the night, the bottle service, the lines of what he assumed was coke, the couple joints he shared with strangers outside. He shut his burning eyes as he swayed in his spot. Goddamn. Despite the growing nausea he felt pretty good, still buzzing from whatever he took, his skin tingling in the right places.

Instinctively he shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Jack sitting out.  A couple swigs, standing alone in the kitchen, and he was starting to fade.  God he just wanted to go to bed with a nice warm body. He had almost got that red-head to come home with him, she was sure friendly enough.  Sitting on his lap, licking up his neck.  He could have fucked her right there, but instead was fucking dumb enough to invite her back to his place.  She was more than eager, practically springing up to grab her bag.  Of course, walking out of the club, Nigel remember the squirrelly little man probably sitting up in his room watching some fucking space documentary, who definitely wouldn’t like some stranger tramping through his safe space.  Plus, women seemed rather turned off by the idea of a roommate.  Proof, when Nigel mentioned it to her, she was gone within seconds with some lame excuse. 

So here he was, alone, horny as hell and fucked off his ass. He briefly considered calling a hooker, someone to suck him off behind the building then disappear. If he could find his fucking phone it would almost be plausible. As he rummaged around in his pockets he heard a muffled, low groan coming from down the hall. He peaked his head up, momentarily confused as to where the fuck that could have come from.

He abandoned his quest for his phone as he swayed down the hall, urged on by another long, raspy moan. He creeped as silently as he could outside Adam’s door, which was left open about half a foot. Despite himself, he looked inside, heart pounding heavy in his chest.

With wide eyes he stared at the flickering images on Adam’s TV, where two oiled up men enthusiastically fucked each other’s brains out.  The one man was buff, tattooed, and had a much smaller man laid out over a bench press. The smaller man’s absurdly long dick bobbed as his body was rocked, his high pitched moans seeming to wrap themselves around Nigel’s brain.

A muffled gasp pulled Nigel’s attention, and the sight on the bed dropped with slushy drunk speed to his groin.  Adam’s legs lay open, boxers pushed down just under his round ass, shirt riding up to show his lower stomach and slowly thrusting hips.  His eyes were closed, lips wet and parted, head thrown to the side, half buried in a pillow.  His fist worked in slow spirals up himself, and Nigel found he couldn’t look away if he tried.

His brain stuttered in attempts to catch up with what he was seeing, and more alarmingly what he was feeling.  Hot, way too hot.  His body felt on fire, his gut filling with an insane flame, his instinct crying out for him to get the fuck in there.  The room continued to spin, but pinned in the middle, not moving besides slow thrusts, was Adam’s trembling body. _Holy shit, holy shit, holy fucking shit._

“Nigel?” Adam’s confused voice pulled him out of his buzzing trance.

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-_

Nigel couldn’t think of a thing to say, couldn’t move; whatever the fuck was in his system was making his limbs way too heavy.

Adam sat up on the bed, pulling up his boxers slow and systematic, like Nigel had walked in on him painting a fucking picture instead of jerking it to gay porn. He pressing pause on the video, making the room suddenly buzzing with stillness after the cheesy jazz and overplayed moaning was cut off.

Adam got up, walked around his bed, and stood on the other side of the doorway’s entrance. He stared confused at Nigel.

“Why were you watching me?” He asked, though didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the intrusion.

“I-uh- I was-  I’m just...” Nigel tried to remember how to form a proper sentence.

Adam let the silence hang there until Nigel shut his eyes and shook his head. “The door was open…fucking weird, Adam.  Fucking really weird.” There. 

"I didn’t think you were coming home tonight.  It’s nearly six in the morning.”

“Do you touch yourself like that a lot?” The words came out before he could stop them, before he could even wonder why the question felt hot against his tongue.

“Would you…like that?” Adam seemed at a loss, but intrigued.

“No,” Nigel shook his head exaggerated. “No, fuck no. Not at all. That’s fucked up.”

“Nigel?”

“Hm?”

“You have an erection.”

Nigel looked down, his blurry vision landing on his stretched jeans. His instinct brought his palm to the obvious swell, pushing gently against himself, pulling a short groan from his rumbling chest.

He looked up suddenly, realizing what he’d just done. “I’m fucked as shit, man. That’s the only reason…I’m not…you know. I don’t like cock.”

A small smile tugged at Adam’s lips. “It’s very difficult to get an erection after a night of drinking and doing drugs.  The blood vessels constrict, restricting blood flow.”

Nigel’s eyes closed slowly as Adam talked. “Blood vessels…” His voice faded.

“Meaning you’d have to be very aroused to get a physical response.”

Nigel’s head lulled back up, starting to feel those last few shots in the kitchen. His thoughts slushed slower still, focus drifting, tension floating lighter. He lowered his hand back to the discomfort in his pants. He stayed quiet, letting his eyes slowly shut, standing there swaying slightly back and forth. Adam’s eyes were trained with razor focus on Nigel’s wide hand rubbing slowly up the front of his jeans, sliding along the bulging curve.

Adam closed his own eyes and took a deep breath.  He was far from professional at these things, but he knew this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, no matter how much he wanted to reach out. Wanted to drop to his knees before this insanely attractive man, drunk off his ass and hard as a rock.  Adam played that scene in his mind for a few seconds, imagining Nigel surprised and impressed and aroused. Adam shook his head, opening his eyes.  If he was ever going to get that chance, he wanted Nigel to remember it, to want it again.

“I think you should go to bed.” He told him.

Nigel opened his eyes, forgetting where he was, looking around confused. He looked down at himself again, then at Adam.  He grunted something unintelligible before turning around and swerving his way down the hall to his own room.

Something low and fidgeting clutched in Adam’s heart as he closed his door, hoping he didn’t just miss the only opportunity he’d get with Nigel.


	7. Up to Adam

The next morning was a Saturday, and Adam stayed in bed later than normal with his heart buzzing.  He looking up at his ceiling, running over the events of the past night in his head. The way Nigel’s bright eyes were glued to him in the dark. The hunger he saw there, the raw energy between them. It made his head spin. He normally liked puzzles, but this one crept anxiety through his stomach. This one asked if Adam’s long-felt crush could ever find fruition, could ever grow. The thought scared Adam as much as it enticed.

So as he stared unfocused, he reviewed the evidence. His heart thought back to whatever they shared outside the strip club that one night, the way Nigel had flirted and moved so close. He often had a hard time reading flirtations as something else, or other things as flirtations, so something held him back from believing fully that that’s what Nigel was doing.  But he wasn’t stupid either; he’d seen the way Nigel would study him sometimes, eyes following him as he moved. Then there was the way Nigel slowly become softer with him, asking more about his days, and opening up to him about Gabbi. That night there was such honesty in his eyes, a defeated openness in his face, so different than what Adam had grown used to. 

Then there was whatever happened last night, Nigel’s clear arousal at watching him. Could it have been just the drugs? Adam groaned and rolled over. He hated this feeling, the not knowing and the wanting. He wished people were simple like the stars, reliably easy to read and understand.

He thought back to his time with Beth, how she laid out what she wanted, telling him what to do and when.  It was never too much of a mystery, of a decision. He knew he wanted her, she wanted him, and they proceeded like normal adults. But with Nigel, it seemed that if Adam was to get what he wanted, he would have to make the first move. The idea frightened him as much as it confused him. Because how was he supposed to find out what Nigel wanted when it seemed he didn’t even know it himself. The guy had his manly bravado to maintain, and just because he seemed suddenly interested in another man, didn’t mean he was about to abandon long felt beliefs on who he was. For Adam it was easier. Even if he’d never been particularly attracted to other men either, it didn’t matter to him. Just a new fact about himself to add to all the other characteristics he knew. Plus he’d watched his own share of gay porn as well, so the attraction wasn’t as alarming as it seemed to Nigel.

So it was up to Adam. The thought curled something cold and tight in his chest.  He hated acting on emotion, especially when he had no idea what the other person was feeling or thinking.  But with all his evidence, all the signs pointing somewhere Adam wanted to be, he came to a two part hypothesis: 1. Something in Nigel connected with and longed for something in Adam. 2. If he didn’t do anything about it, nothing would get done at all.

With slightly more secure resolution, Adam pushed back his covers and crawled out of bed. He readied himself as usual, showering, getting dressed, eating his cereal in the kitchen.  As he ate, Nigel’s door opened up and he shuffled out, rubbing his face.

“Good morning. You’re up early,” Adam greeted, his heart jumping a bit.

“Too hungover to sleep,” Nigel grumbled back, his accent thick.

Adam nodded, watching as Nigel slowly walked over to slip on his shoes and jacket. He grabbed his pack of smokes off the table next to the door, then left.  

In the silence Adam still felt tense. He wondered if the older man remembered anything from the night before. That level of intoxication usually blurred out memories pretty sufficiently. But something in him hoped he didn’t. He was surprised to feel disappointed, that Nigel wouldn’t keep the arousing image in his mind’s eye. I he were able to hold onto it, maybe it would be easier for Nigel to realize what he wanted.

After a few minutes the door reopened. He waited until the older man crossed the room into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee machine.  

“So…you came home very late last night.” Adam prompted, trying to gage Nigel’s facial reaction. But he didn’t’ look up from pouring in the coffee grounds.

“I don’t even remember the walk home.” He mumbled, still seeming half awake.

Adam’s heart dropped. “So you don’t remember…our conversation last night?”

Nigel paused, then looked up. He seemed awake now.

“What conversation?” his tone boarded on suspicious.

Adam looked back down at his food. “Never mind.”

“No, not never mind. What conversation?” he pushed, turning to face Adam.

Adam shrugged. “We talked about,” he paused to think. “The Apollo space missions.”

Nigel squinted, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. “I don’t believe you.”

“Ok.” Adam said simply, standing to bring his bowl to the sink.

Nigel stared incredulously as Adam remained silent, standing next to him and turning on the water.

“Are you gunna tell me what really happened, Adam?” Nigel asked.

Adam paused, putting down his bowl. He turned and examined Nigel. Looked at the soft planes of cheek bone, the stubble across defined jaw, the wide forehead and sloping nose. He was deciding on telling him or not, wondering how he’d react.

 Nigel furrowed his brow at being studied. “What?” he demanded.

Adam looked away, blushing slightly, forgetting it was rude to stare. Especially so obviously. Nigel noticed his skin tinging pink, and tried not to let his heart jump entirely into his throat. Short flashes of the night before came back to him, only in blurry feelings and dark images. He remembered the deep arousal, Adam’s room, and Adam on the bed. And that was enough for him to immediately not want to know what they talked about. Which didn’t stop the burning he felt in his chest now.

“Whatever. I’m so fucking tired anyway. I’m going back to bed,” he said as an excuse to get away from the buzzing that seemed to take over his mind whenever Adam was close. He padded across the room to the hall, then disappeared behind his bedroom door.

Adam sighed in relief that Nigel stopped pushing, but still wondered what made him leave so quickly. A small light of hope in the back of his mind said it was because he was starting to remember pieces of the night. He tried to school a small smile at the idea.

When he finished washing the dishes, he went into his room and shut the door. He got out his laptop, sat cross legged on the bed, getting ready to do some research. Before he pursued anything, he had to be sure attraction was what he was reading off Nigel. He typed into the search engine: How to know if a man is attracted to you sexually? He clicked on the first link, leading to a website called “Bad Girl’s Bible.” He took out a notebook from his side table, and followed along with the article, taking notes when the situation could apply to him and Nigel.

**Eye Contact**

“If his eyes keep drifting to your mouth, your hair, your legs and breasts then you can be pretty sure that his interest in you includes the physical…you should be able to catch his eye, and hold it, gazing into each other’s souls.”

-

 Nigel sat on the other side of the table, reading over the newspaper, and mindlessly taking bites of his eggs. It was early for him; he had to meet with Darko’s men to sign something or other. This was the first time in a while they’d had breakfast together, and Adam considered it a perfect opportunity to try out his first data gathering experiment.

Nigel placed down his paper to reach for his coffee, gaze shifting to Adam sat across from him. He looked away, but did a double take, noticing for the first time Adam’s intense stare focused directly at him. He wasn’t moving, blinking, or smiling.  He seemed rather uncomfortable, but quite resolute to keep staring.

Nigel’s own eyes widened, and he pushed his head back a bit. “Adam?”

Adam didn’t alter his expression when he responded. “Yes?”

“Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m maintaining meaningful eye contact.” Adam explained.

Nigel nodded, not following but uncomfortable. He looked back down at his paper, trying to ignore Adam.  But when Adam didn’t look away while raising a spoon of cereal to his mouth, Nigel set down his paper exasperated.

“Well could you fucking stop it?  It’s weird.” He ordered.

Adam blinked a couple times, breaking his stony expression and looking down.

 “You didn’t like that?” he asked quietly.

Nigel blinked too, bewildered by the other man’s sudden disappointment, somehow feeling guilty for it.

“Uh, no, not particularly.  People don’t like to be stared at like that.” When Adam didn’t say anything in response, Nigel tried again. “But it’s good of you to try to make more eye contact.  I notice you don’t do that a lot. So good for you for trying.  Keep practicing.”  He said, trying to be encouraging.

Adam raised his eyes, a look of confusion, thinking, and then understanding breaking over his features. He was remembering a different section of the article, one that mentions what the article called considerate memory: “This means that he will remember small details about you, and about things you like.” Adam straightened up in his chair, trying to hold back a smile twitching at his lips.  He stared at the space on the table between them.

“Thank you,” he responded.

 

**Playing with his hair**

**-**

“Guys do this involuntarily and more often than you think. Glance back next time you trot off to the restroom and I bet his hands will be on their way to touching his hair.”

Adam started noticing every time Nigel’s long fingers would brush through his silvery blonde hair. Nigel leaning over something he’s reading, taking a sip of coffee, stalking through the apartment because he couldn’t find the damn fucking remote again. Adam started keeping tabs each time it would happen, writing it down on a small spiral notebook. In one column he ticked off if it happened when they weren’t talking, on the other when the hair play would happen when they were interacting.

“What are you doing?” Nigel asked him once, noticing as he chewed his lunch Adam curled over his notebook.

 Adam could feel his face redden. “Nothing. Its math stuff.” He lied quickly.

Nigel rolled his eyes, “Oh, well fuck that,” he mumbled and took another bite of his food.

This part of the data gathering process appeared unhelpful, as the older man seemed to touch his hair for any reason at all. Adam sighed, frustrated at his inability to read others. This was going to take further stimulation for more conclusive data. He closed the notebook and stood up.

“I have to trot off to the restroom,” he said, looking straight at him.

Nigel’s brow furrowed, unsure if he was supposed to pick up on any double meaning, the way Adam had said it. But then he remembered Adam didn’t do double meanings.

“Um…ok. Trot off then,” Nigel shrugged, turning his attention back to the T.V.

Adam walked slowly, stopping twice to glace over his shoulder to see if Nigel was touching his hair. He wasn’t. This upset Adam, who continued on to the bathroom.

He tried again later that day, standing from the dinner table this time to tell Nigel he needed to trot off to the restroom. This time Nigel didn’t even look up.

“You don’t have to announce it each time,” he said.

Adam frowned, then walked away. Nigel glanced up right as he’d turned, taking the moment for his eyes to travel down his back, ass and legs. When he caught on that he was clearly checking out the kid, fear prickled in his heart. He stiffly looked away, frustrated at the kid’s ability to draw him in like that.

Adam, feeling disheartened, turned around one more time just to check. And there it was, Nigel leaned against the back of the couch, one hand pushing back his bangs. Adam smiled widely, excited and nervous that his plans were working.

“Are you gunna piss or what?” Nigel snapped.

Adam jumped slightly, then hurried to the bathroom.

               

**He commits to the future**

**-**

“Buying tickets to a concert next month, or inviting you to a friend's birthday party are his ways of telling you he wants to keep you around. If he can't commit to something two weeks out, he's probably not thinking this is going to last.”

Adam paced outside of Nigel’s door. This one seemed easy to him. All he had to do was figure out how long into the future Nigel wanted to be around. He had planned on asking Nigel over breakfast, but as the minutes ticked by, Nigel still hadn’t come out of his room yet.

Adam glanced nervously at his watch. He was running out of time to ask, with the bus coming in less than 20 minutes. He huffed impatiently, and continued to walk back and forth outside Nigel’s bedroom door.

It swung open suddenly, making Adam jump. Nigel was in only black boxers, eyes barely open and hair sticking up in places. Adam couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering down the exposed span of skin, muscular and seemingly glowing in the early morning light from the window. 

“Yes?” Nigel asked, trying to school his patience.

“Did I wake you up?” Adam asked, wide eyes wandering down his chest. In his sleepy state Nigel didn’t seem to notice.

 Nigel shut his eyes. “Yes.”

Adam swallowed and nodded.

“I, um, I was wondering if you wanted to watch the season finale of _Explorations_ with me.” He asked, blue eyes still wide.

Nigel exhaled through his nose. “What time is it on?” he asked, rubbing his face.

“Well it comes on at 2 but I watch it at 8.”

“Ok. See you at 8,” he responded, already moving to shut the door and get back in bed.

“Oh no,” Adam stopped him. “It’s not on tonight. The season ends in two months.”

Nigel paused. “You woke me up at 6 in the fucking morning to ask if I wanted to watch a TV show with you in _two months_?”

Adam looked around, not understanding the question. Didn’t that clearly just happen?

“Yes.” He confirmed.

Nigel closed his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning one arm against the door frame. After a brief silence, he sighed again and opened his eyes.

“You’re a real fucking trip you know that?”

“Will you do it?” Adam pushed.

“Yes, fine, ok. In two months we can watch a fucking TV show together. Are you happy? Can I go back to sleep now?” Nigel asked.

Adam beamed. “Thank you!”

With that he turned directly around, scurrying out the door to make it to the bus on time, leaving a very confused and exhausted Nigel in his wake.


	8. A risk

He went about his morning routine with buzzing energy, not finding the usual comforts in his routines.  The shower seemed too long, breakfast too short, clothes too hot. He just wanted Nigel to wake up, to come out of his bedroom so Adam could do what he had to do. He’d been reviewing his collected data all morning, convincing himself his hypothesis was correct, and that the only way to prove his theory was to just go for it. 

He had worried about timing, knowing he and Nigel didn’t interact too much because of their different schedules. Nigel stayed out late every night and came home piss drunk, not prime time to initiate physical contact.  Then it would have to be morning, Adam decided, and given that he would be hard pressed to get Nigel out of the house in the morning or afternoon when he’d wake up, their own living room was where it would have to happen.

Adam felt his heart jump into his heart when he watched from the couch as a groggy Nigel shuffled, eyes squinting, from his room into the bathroom. When he shut the door Adam exhaled slowly. Better that Nigel wake up a bit, get cleaned up, brush his teeth and all that.

While waiting, he picked up a magazine from the coffee table, leafing through the wide, glossy photos of the best and newest star gazing gear on the market.  He considered the one he already had, how much research he’d put into buying it, knowing he had exactly the right type of lenses and calibrators he needed.  But still, some of the more expensive pieces offered gave him a small pinch of longing, wishing he could afford some of the highest grade equipment.

The bathroom door creaking open pulled Adam from his reading, and he couldn’t stop his nerves watching Nigel pad into the kitchen in search of breakfast, hair combed back and smelling of fresh soap.

Adam stood up cautiously, taking mechanical steps into the kitchen to join Nigel, who was already fiddling with the coffee maker.

“We’re almost out of filters,” Nigel mused, voice still a little rough from sleep.

When he turned around, he stopped abruptly when he noticed Adam stood directly in his path to the sink, closer than normal. He didn’t move an inch, seemingly frozen, as Adam took another slow step forward.  Adam’s eyes were drooped slightly, trained on Nigel’s mouth as he moved closer still, and Nigel forgot for a moment how to move a single inch of his body.  Something in him wanted to demand what he was doing, and another part knew exactly what was happened. Before he could even find out if he wanted this, he found Adam’s cloudy blue eyes looking directly into his own, and Nigel’s gaze dropped seamlessly to Adam’s wet lips.

And then they disappeared from his vision as Adam closed the distance, closing Nigel’s eyes and taking his lips in his own. The first push innocent, soft, curious.  The second sliding, indulgent, a sharing. Nigel felt, breathed, tasted, and for a wide moment, mouths opened, dipped, caught in a burning rush and gentle impulse.

The sweet, hard-beating moment passed just as suddenly as it had come, as Nigel’s brain caught up with him, realizing the broad chest pushing into his, the wide hands gripping his neck.

He pulled away suddenly, stumbling backwards as he shoved against Adam harshly.

"What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing?" he barked, reaching the back of his hand up to wipe his mouth.

"You kissed me back, Nigel." Adam told him, slightly out of breath.

"Adam-! Y-you can’t fucking do that," he stuttered, tone a mixture of surprise and growing fury.

Adam smiled wide at him, ignoring Nigel’s budding anger, reaching his fingers to gently touch his own mouth.

"That was exhilarating," Adam whispered.

Nigel walked towards him pointedly, his nose twitching with his temper.

"Don't fucking do that again,” he warned.

Adam stared back definitely, letting the silence expand behind Nigel’s warning.

“I think you're aroused right now,” Adam finally spoke.

Nigel shoved Adam a shade too hard for gentle against his shoulders, pushing him into the fridge.

"I'm not a fucking cock sucker,” he growled.

His face was distracting close to Adam’s, and the younger man had to hold himself back from reclaiming what he’d just tasted.

"I am, though.” Adam had to force himself to meet his eyes, noticing how wide his pupils had become, finding something more than anger there.  “And I think that appeals to you."

Nigel stared back at Adam, anger boiling low in his gut, and something frustratingly hot. Moreover, he couldn’t think of a thing to say, the words coming jumbled. Feeling like the little shit could read his thoughts. He slammed his palm against the fridge next to Adam’s head, and then stalked away straight out the door, slamming it behind him.

* * *

That night Nigel got as drunk as he’d been since Gabbi first asked for a divorce.  He sat in the first bar deep into his drink count, thinking of the days before Adam, before these months in chilly autumn in a little apartment in Manhattan. Before every interaction with Adam left him more and more frustrated, and somehow lonelier. Like when they parted Adam took something with him each time.

That life with Gabbi seeped into his thoughts as he tried to avoid thinking of Adam. The memories of his Romanian lifestyle hounded him, mocking him for how soft he’d become. Because now when he thought of Gabbi it wasn’t with the usual longing. Something new seemed to have taken root in his heart, making him think back on her with only shame at himself. This time he could see her scared and alone.  Desperate. He saw how he did that to her.  He remembered burning eyes, his veins pumping and vision unfocused, their fights ending with shit thrown and her crying. He could see now without denial how afraid of him he made her. Regret burned in his heart as he leaned against the sticky bar top, missing how happy he had once been. But not her, this sadness didn’t seem to want her back this time.

                Because now his heart was sore thinking about the look in Adam’s eye right after their kiss. The look that turned from elated joy to a second of fear when Nigel had hit the fridge. The idea of being that guy again made his stomach churn. But how could he compare the two? Why were they even on the same playing field? Adam was a man, and last time he checked he wasn’t gay. But that didn’t seem to stop his head from spinning thinking back to those soft lips on his own. It was like Nigel’s heart had completely forgotten Adam’s gender, and somehow he was still pulled into his orbit. The idea rattled Nigel to his core. So he continued to deal with his problems the same way he always did, by drinking more.

By the third bar his thoughts slushed slower, and he allowed himself to think about Adam. How he challenged him to soften his heart, one so hardened after years of separation from a solid idea of what it was to love. He couldn’t hide from Adam, a feeling that came with a rawness.  Because Adam could look at him and read an entire life story. Because Adam didn’t want anything from him, no money, no drugs, not even sex. It was like the kid was happy just to be around him, which blew his mind because he couldn’t remember anyone ever simply enjoying his company.

After the fourth bar and nearly an entire bottle’s worth of different whiskeys all night, he left to walk the city near central park, past tourists and late night bodies moving around.  He sat on a train for hours thinking, mumbling, blinking, sleeping, slurring. When he thought of Adam, he could feel him under his arm as they walked home from the strip club, warm and fitting perfectly. When he thought of Adam it was of his jaw, a sharp curve clean-shaven. It was of the smell of his lingering aftershave in the bathroom when he left in the morning, or the mumbling sounds of those damn actor documentaries he watched while making dinner that would float through to Nigel’s room.

There was a heat there, taking up so much space in his heart he could hardly think. Thoughts became accusations became truths about himself he wasn’t ready to handle. But regardless of any encyclopedia terms he threw at himself and grappled with, there was a large part of him that wanted Adam.  Wanted him in a primary, under the skin sort of way.  A way that made him beat harder, a way that, despite everything, he wanted to chase.


	9. Give me love

Adam was standing in front of the book shelf, searching for anything to get his mind off Nigel’s extended absence, his flaring temper, his pressing mouth. The room had grown dark around him hours ago, but he was so focused he didn’t think to turn on any lights. His bedtime came and went, but he waited up for Nigel instead; he wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Each passing hour ticked anxiety deeper into him. Despite his attempts to school his mind, it kept wandering back to that kiss.  The brief moment Nigel opened for him, his gasp, the taste. Then the anger, then the hollow silence that seemed to fill every crevice of the room after Nigel stormed away.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a thud against the door. His heart fluttered helplessly as he heard Nigel’s muffled grumbles and attempts at the lock.  It took him a few tries, each second pounding into Adam’s nerves. When Nigel finally got the door open, he stumbled through the threshold, one hand holding onto the door frame. His cheeks were still red from the wind’s chill outside and it took him a moment for his eyes to focus with the room backlit from the orange hall light. Once his eyes landed blearily on Adam, he glared, taking a shuffling step forward and slamming the door behind him.

Without the hall light, the room was cast in darkness again, the only light coming in dark through the windows from the city. It was enough to barely find each other’s eyes.

“You shoulda fucking asked, Adam,” he growled.

“You would have said no,” Adam responded, voice small.

“Then you shouldn’t have fucking done it,” Nigel snapped, taking a few steps forward.

Adam thought about this, about the times other people had touched him when he didn’t want them to. He remembered the panic, how it made his skin crawl. His heart sank thinking he’d done that to Nigel.

“I’m sorry that you didn’t want me to kiss you,” He said finally, feeling his throat tighten at the words. He felt embarrassed for even trying, seeing how upset Nigel had become. It definitely wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting.

Nigel surprised Adam by chuckling low, even if it was without humor. “I didn’t fucking say that.”

Adam watched him with wide eyes as he continued to move forward. He moved right into Adam’s personal space, walking him backwards until Adam’s back was against the wall next to the shelf. Nigel smell of smoky bars, whiskey still on his breath. His hands were already grabbing at hip, pinning him. Head nuzzling to the crook of Adam’s neck, he lifted his lips to skim up the soft skin there.

"You fucking want my cock? Huh?" He whispered harshly in Adams ear, anger and arousal mixing in his tone.

Nigel’s words swirled around Adam’s head, too unbelievable to comprehend, his heart ready to burst at having Nigel so intoxicatingly close.  When Adam didn’t respond, Nigel let his nose travel along that impossible sharp edge of Adam’s jaw.

"I asked you a fucking question, darling." He purred, frustration still in his voice.

"Yes," Adam finally breathed.

"Then who am I to deny you?" He whispered, barely audible.  

He stayed for a heartbeat longer against the crook of his neck, Adam’s clean cotton smell crowding his senses. Then he suddenly pulled off, sprawling himself backwards until the back of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. He landed hard, legs spread out.

The silence then hung between them with invitation and rumbling nerves. Adam stared back, unsure if he should move forward. He desperately wanted to, watching Nigel so miraculously open for him. This appeared to be the answer to all his hungry questions, and yet something in him wanted to hold back. Nigel was still angry, and also obviously quite intoxicated. Adam considered himself logical, level headed, and if sexual frustration didn’t burn under his skin like molten lava, he would have removed himself from the situation and waited for sobriety before initiating physical contact. But with Nigel’s shirt rising up, showing the taunt skin just above the V of his crotch, with Nigel slowly working on the button to his pants, the welcoming crumbled any strength against it Adam could muster.  

He took a few shuffling steps forward, meeting Nigel’s challenging and almost curious gaze. Instead of dropping to his knees before Nigel, something he had fantasized about too many times now to count, he slowly climbed on top of his lap, straddling him on either side.  Nigel looked up at him, his face wavering at the initiation of physical contact. Adam smoothed his hands up Nigel’s chest to come and grip behind his neck. Closing his eyes, he came to rest his forehead against the other man’s.

Nigel hesitantly raised his hands to hold Adam’s hips, not nearly as sure of himself has he had been a moment ago. His breath came shaky as Adam slowly let his knees widen, deepening his position so their laps could meet. The mood seemed to shift, from rushed frustration to slow indulgence. Something inside Nigel rocked against the intimacy, the romance Adam draped over their sexual desire. This was a bonding, a closeness he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Desire and connection rushed Nigel like the ocean’s tide, making him ache for more under the pounding fear in his chest.

A heavy heat blossomed low as Adam began to shift his weight. He rocked his hips slowly, sliding a long grind. Nigel canted gently upward to meet with harder friction, breathing heavy through his nose and trying to control his sky-rocketing pulse. Adam hummed in response, something breathy and musical, which dropped straight to Nigel’s lap. Adam draped his arms over Nigel’s shoulders, as he made the same movement, skimming his growing arousal trapped behind thin pajama pants along Nigel’s jeaned, hardening bulge.

Nigel assumed the next logical step would be to take off their close and get on with it, but Adam didn’t move off him, didn’t go for his clothes. He simply continued to grind against Nigel, which was wildly arousing and intimidatingly intimate. Nigel couldn’t feel anything else but Adam. Adam against his erection under his jeans, Adam panting in his ear, Adam’s hands curling in his hair.  It was slow and desperate, pleasure surrounded each shoving movement. Their bodies slowly took over, desire for each other overcoming fear of the unknown. Nigel dipped his hands under Adam’s shirt, then followed up the smooth curve of his back, roaming the wide expanse of bare skin. He raised his hands to Adam’s shoulders, gripped tightly and pulled down. He crushed Adam to meet a hard upward thrust, pulling a gasping groan from the younger man.  

The room was filled with each of their breathy moans escaping into the silence. Their clothes rustled, entirely in the way, even with Nigel’s hands impatiently shoving up the fabric of Adam’s T-shirt. Adam pulled back, eyes hooded and unfocused, pulling the T-shirt impatiently over his head.

They paused for a heartbeat. Nigel’s eyes followed up long, pale torso; he was mesmerized by the span of naked skin exposed, seemingly glowing in filtered moonlight.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Nigel whispered like a confession.

Adam glowed at the compliment. Nigel watched the rosy tint growing across Adam’s chest; the sight shattered the left over fear still trickling in his heart, replacing it with a new hunger. He reached one hand to cup jaw, hesitancy gone, pulling Adam gently to down into a kiss. It started as a slow sharing, soft pull and slide. Each one’s lips leaving patterns the other’s tried to trace. Adam opened his mouth in a sigh, letting Nigel glide his tongue gently against his own. They met to slide and dip against each other.

 Nigel moved both arms to crush Adam to him, never daring to break the kiss. He shifted his position before turning them on the sofa, lowering them so that Adam’s back was against plush cushion, his head on arm rest. He slotted himself perfectly along Adam’s body, bracing himself on either side of head with his elbows. He grinded hard downward, shoving his thigh into Adam’s tented lap. The pleasure pulled a whimper from Adam, and fuck if that wasn’t the sexiest noise on the planet. 

Nigel pulled back, taking a moment to hover over Adam, absorbing his gentle features in the dark. His rustled curls, kissed raw lips, and pupil’s blown wide in nearly unearthly beauty. Like nothing Nigel had ever seen before. He burned to touch more, to claim every inch of soft, pale skin as his own. He lower his parted lips back to Adam’s. He kissed him with soft hunger, Adam’s rushed sighs wrapping around his thoughts. He lowered his kisses down Adam’s jaw, dragging his lips across slight stubble to his neck.

As he continued to suck soft bruises against Adam’s skin, he shifted his position to be able to lower his hand between them. Without pause he pushed a wide palm into Adam’s cock, the soft cotton of his pants bunching slightly. This pulled a whiny gasp from the younger man, which broke into deep moans as Nigel slid his hand from base to head. Nigel felt each heavy curve through the thin material, felt it slightly wet at the tip. The feel of another man’s hardness so open and ready in his hand spun Nigel’s thoughts. The newness of it was nearly too much for him. But with Adam’s response so sensitive, so maddeningly alluring, Nigel’s tidal waves of desire pummeled over the fear. Nigel tightened his grip slightly and began working it slowly up and down the length, shooting that pleasure throughout Adam, who helplessly and hungrily bucked upward.

“You like that, baby?” Nigel husked in Adam’s ear.

“Nigel, I-I-” whatever he was going to say was swallowed by a rumbling moan as Nigel swirled his palm around the head.

The coils in Adam’s belly tightened, the unsurmountable pressure building at alarming pace inside him. Desperate for release, he held tightly to Nigel in the dark, thrusting upward and moaning his name with burning lust and expanding heat. Adam slammed his head into pillow as the tension snapped, rushing searing force throughout him. He arched his back and dug his fingers into Nigel’s skin, coming with a gasping call and vision whiting.

Nigel released Adam’s spent length, raising his lips to capture Adam’s. As they kissed deeply, Adam’s pulse still pounded loudly in his ears, his breath slowly returning to normal. Nigel was already working open the zipper to his pants, hastily pulling out his own aching member. He pumped his fist over himself a few times, before Adam’s hand was covering his and then replacing it. And then Nigel was seeing stars, his head dipped against Adam’s shoulder. He hungrily thrusted into Adam’s moving fist, each wet slide driving him more and more insane. The burning pressure began to tighten within him already, feeling himself racing unstoppably over that edge. He came with a few loud grunts, sparking pleasure burst through him, breaking in waves.

Nigel slumped forward, letting his weight land completely on Adam. Adam squirmed under the weight, shifting over and turning to slot Nigel between the sofa and himself. Nigel went, curling around Adam’s back, laying his head against damp curls. His arms wrapped protectively around Adam, who raised his hands to interlace their fingers. Adam was already falling asleep, as it was way past his normal bedtime, and his body was emotionally and physically exhausted. No more words were spoken; the two men just settled into each other, too tired to think about whatever this meant, and drifted to sleep as dawn pushed grey through the window.  

* * *

Adam woke the next morning to hot sun on his face pouring in through the window. He rolled over groggily, rubbing his eyes. He paused when he didn’t hit another sleeping body. He opened his eyes and looked around, finding no one.

“Nigel?” He called out, leaning up on the sofa.

The silence throughout in the empty apartment was deafening. Something cold dropped into Adam’s stomach.


	10. waking up

He woke up to the sound of acoustic guitar, delicate and smooth. The sheets wrapped around his middle were soft against his bare skin. He blearily opened his eyes, head throbbing. He was in a studio apartment, lit by various red lamps around the room. There were no windows. On the far end of the room he saw a door, next to a painting of Van Gogh’s _Starry Night_ over an old desk cluttered with paper, candles, and beer cans.

He rolled over, finding no one in the bed. The nightstand had his wallet and phone, along with a few pill bottles and a handle of Jack. He groaned, raising a hand to rub his face. He couldn’t remember leaving the bar the night before.

“Hey! There he is,” a woman’s voice greeted, making him jump.

She walked in from the bathroom area. Nigel sat up quickly, turning to face her. It was the redhead from the bar so many nights ago, the one that refused to go home with him after she found out about his roommate. She wore baggy grey sweat pants with a loose sleeveless shirt. Her long hair was wet as she ran a brush through it.

Nigel’s heart hammered when he recognized her, trying desperately to remember what had happened.

He was silence, staring at her and she faced away from him to rummage through the drawers of a tall dresser to the left of the bed. She turned to walk over to the desk, sitting down on the rolling chair.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“fine.”

He remained silent, wracking his brain for an inkling of the night before.

“You’re wondering if we slept together?” she asked, a smile curling.

“I was very drunk,” He said curtly.

“I’d say,” she said, adjusting her position to tuck one leg under herself. “But you seemed to have sobered up a good deal though. That’s good.”

Nigel waited a second before impatiently prompting: “so did we?”

She looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Oh yeah, big time,” she nodded. “One of the best fucks I’ve ever had.”

His heart dropped like a stone through his chest, landing cold in his gut. How could he do this? Something cold told him it’s what he always does; get close to something real and then fucks it up. His heart hardened, trying to argue it wasn’t like he and Adam were even really anything. The thought did nothing to comfort, only sloshed deeper guilt through him.

“You were just great. Huge penis- very impressive.” She nodded, holding up her hands to gauge about how long she thought it was.

When she looked back up, her eyes landed on Nigel’s darkening features.

“I’m kidding!” She said immediately. “Jeez, you look like I just fucking told you your mom died. No, we did not fuck. Are you happy?” She seemed mildly annoyed with this information.

Nigel nodded slowly, sliding up the bed to lean back against the headboard. “Then why am I naked?” he asked.

She laughed out loud. “Cause we were gunna up until you called me Adam by accident and then flipped shit.”

Nigel grimaced, starting to feel dirty in his own skin. He slid off the bed, standing to grab his pants off the floor.

“Look,” he said, sliding one foot into the leg, “exactly how fucking intimate were we?”

“You really don’t remember anything, huh? Damn, you hold your liquor well ‘cause you did not seem that fucked up to me. Do you remember my name?”

As she spoke, she turned around in the chair and faced the desk.

It was Nigel’s turn to roll his eyes, buttoning his pants hastily.

 “No.”

She snorted at that, pulling out a small glass pipe from a drawer, followed by a baggie of weed.

 “It’s Beth.”

“Alright, _Beth_ ,” Nigel said, finding his blue button up a few feet over. He slid it on, starting to work on the buttons, before realizing it was missing a few. He looked back up at her. “You need to tell me what fucking happened.” He tried to keep the alarm from his voice.

“I lied. It’s April,” she said, grinning to herself as she carefully packed the bowl.

Nigel slumped his head backwards, losing patience. “Would you mind being fucking serious?” he growled, anxious.

She sighed faux-dramatically. “Aright, fine.” she said, turning the chair back towards Nigel.

“But first,” she held up the piece up to her face, taking a slow hit. She coughed slightly, then offered it to Nigel.  He shook his head, and she shrugged, taking another hit before setting it down.

“Ok. I’ll give you the play-by-play.”  She sat cross-legged on the seat, and Nigel took a few steps backwards to sit on the edge of the bed.

“So the hottest thing that had happened really was when we were dancing at Tropic’s, we were grinding, all up on each other- It was sexy as fuck,” she told him.

“Ok, so we danced? That’s it?”

“Well then I asked if you wanted to go home with me. You nodded, so I took your hand. We walked the few blocks, you had your hand on my ass a few times but didn’t say anything. Then we got here. I did a little strip tease for you, which disappointingly didn’t get you nearly as hard as I wanted.”

“You fucking touched my dick?”

“Alright, one, don’t make it sound like that’s the end of the world, you ass. And, two, no I did not. And neither did you. I helped you get your clothes off, then you sat half-masked on the bed as I danced around for you.”

“So that’s it, I just couldn’t get hard?”

“Not exactly.” She shook her head. “Afterwards you told me to get on the bed, ass in the air. I thought it was hot as fuck so I went, waiting for you to just go at it. Instead you knelt behind me, and started touching yourself. Then you asked if we could do it in the ass. And then you called me Adam.”

Nigel couldn’t remember any of this, but burned with shame already. He swallowed. “And did we?”

“I already told you we didn’t fuck. I asked who was Adam and you started to get all defensive saying you didn’t call me that. You said you changed your mind and then just fucking passed out in my goddam bed.”

Cold relief seeped over Nigel, only a little embarrassed for his behavior in front of the perfect stranger. He stood up.

“Well I’m sorry for all that,” he said halfheartedly, already walking around the bed to grab his stuff.

Her eyes watched him as he moved. “Adam is one lucky dude.” She mused.

Nigel felt his heart clench at her words, thinking back to walking out on him. He didn’t feel like Adam was lucky. He felt like Adam was the most unlucky fucking person in the world, to have fallen for a guy like himself.

Nigel wondered how Adam was doing, if his heart hurt as much as his own did. Everything in him called out to just go straight home, but something was stopping him. Something coated in cold fear. Whatever they shared on the couch that night laid heavy in his mind, wrapped up in an intimacy he wasn’t ready to face.

“I’m not gay.” He didn’t know why he said it.  

“You don’t have to be gay to love a dude. You just gotta,” she shrugged, “love a dude.”

“I never said I loved him,” Nigel snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “Ok fine, super mega like _like_ then. So I’m guessing this is the first guy you’ve ever been into?” She asked, taking another slow hit from her bowl.

He stared back at her, unsure if he wanted to have this conversation. But everything seemed to be bursting at the seams, and if he didn’t talk about it with someone, something was bound to break. His head or his heart.

“Yeah,” he said.

She nodded. “It doesn’t have to change anything about you. All that matters is what’s between you two. No labels, no definitions. I mean you’re an older guy, it’s not like you have to refigure out who you are.”

He thought about this. Unsure if he believed how easy it seemed when she put it like that. He thought back to the fear that night when Adam had held him so tightly.

“But I don’t know if I can be that guy for him. I don’t know how far I can take it before I wake up and realize what I’m doing,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What if I’m leading him on?”

He had no idea what he was doing, wildly unused to vulnerability. But he figured he’d probably never see her again anyway.

“And what if you’re blowing it by being too much of a fucking pussy about it?” she asked.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Well when you put it like that” he said sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious. No one on the face of the planet has even known the answers to all the what if’s. But pussyfooting around it won’t make either of you happy. You just gotta go for it and hope it works out. It’s really not that complicated, dude.”

He looked down, considering what she was saying. She had a point, but the idea of facing Adam again after what they shared made his stomach flutter. He hated the feeling, wanted to run from it.

“And I can tell you one thing:  going home with random women definitely isn’t the solution. Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked.

“I guess. I guess I thought…I had to prove something to myself.” Now it seemed so selfish, cruel even. “But I wasn’t planning on going home with anyone. That part was a mistake. I was really fucking wasted.”        

"Maybe that’s a problem too. I’ve seen you at the club a few times and you’re always coked out of your mind and drunk as shit. Is that what will bring happiness?”

“What are you? A fucking shrink? It’s none of your fucking business how much I drink.” He was starting to get defensive, hating the truth he heard in her words.

“And what about Darko?” she asked, making his eyes widen.

“How the fuck do you-”

“ _God_ , you’re so fucking oblivious. I work for him, for you really. How can you not know that?” she asked shaking her head.

He looked her over, not recognizing her from any of the warehouses or meetings. But Darko had a lot of people on his payroll, how the fuck was he supposed to know every one of them. But the fact that he didn’t made him feel like he was doing something wrong. Maybe she had a fucking point; if he was so fucked up all the time and couldn’t do his job properly, then how the fuck could he ever be anything to Adam.

Nigel thought about Adam again, wondering what he was doing right then. What he thought last night when Nigel didn’t come home. Panic started rising in Nigel, the thought of Adam thinking he went home with someone else. Whatever ache he was bruising into Adam just by being away made Nigel’s heart pump faster. It was time to go, get the fuck home. Get the fuck back to the only one he wanted to be with.

“I gotta go,” he said, standing up quickly. “Try and catch him before he goes to work.”

She snorted. “You probably got time, bud. It’s not even four yet.”

Nigel eye’s eyes widened. “You let me sleep ‘til four in the fucking afternoon!”

She laughed out loud. “Dude! You only slept for like two hours. It’s the same night. God, maybe you are still drunk.”

It took Nigel a second to readjust. It was only four. AM. Meaning Adam most likely had gone to bed. The thought hurt Nigel, thinking of the kid waiting up for him as long as he could, before he went to sleep with a broken heart. But the time also meant that he still had time to make it home before Adam had to wake up alone again. His stomach churned at the idea; Nigel never wanted Adam to ever have to do that again. The thought made his chest warm, with only a pinch of Anxiety. But fuck it, since when was he someone to back down from fear?

He suddenly burned with the need to be with Adam. To be close to him, to comfort and protect. To kiss away each night they’d spent apart, each night he let him down. When he thought of Adam in pain he suddenly couldn’t give two fucks about his gender. The idea of them both hurting, both separated, for no other reason but Nigel’s selfish obsession with his own fears hardened Nigel’s resolution.  

He rushed to put on his shoes, nearly tripping as he laced them. He opened the door, crossed out, before pausing. He turned.

 “Thanks,” he said softly.  

“Any time, boss.”


	11. Fearless

Nigel walked home twice as fast, impatient to see Adam. He concentrated on that desire, that burning want to be around him, to be as close to him as possible. He didn’t care about anything else in that moment. Not his fears, his reputation, his doubts. All that mattered was acting on what he wanted, what he’d been denying himself. Denying Adam. He crossed over wet cement and passed darkened shop widows. Streetlights guiding his way as he made it back home, back up those stairs, this time not bleary eyed or fumbling for his keys.

When he got inside he didn’t bother to stop and take off his shoes or his jacket.  He walked pointedly across the living room, straight down the hall. He passed his room, and didn’t knock on Adam’s door before slowly opening it.

The room was coated in darkness, still and quiet except for soft snoring. Nigel didn’t stop to wake Adam up, didn’t make a noise, pausing only to take off his shoes.  Moving with slow focus, he lifted the plaid coverlet back, and with a dizzying warmth, he crawled into bed with Adam.  He slid up to and over him, arms reaching to hold. His lips immediately dipped down, hungrily seeking smooth skin at the juncture of jaw and neck. He breathed in deeply, intoxicated by the fresh, cottony smell, the warmth of his skin. He nuzzled closer to earlobe, heart expanding, the raw connection glowing over him. Fearless to it for the first time since he met Adam, he soaked in the pure desire, the unfiltered affection.

Adam woke to something heavy on his chest, someone grabbing in his hair. He squirmed uncomfortably and was about to get very upset when he felt the first kiss on his neck.  It was slow, curious, leaving the skin wet and tingling where thin lips grazed. Oh.  _Oh_.

He became very still, sliding open his eyes in the dark.

“Nigel?” His whisper carried both disbelief and hope.

Nigel paused, hesitant, misreading his stillness for distaste. Maybe Adam had changed his mind? Maybe he was angry at him for walking away? He pulled away far enough to find Adam’s eyes in the dark. With city lights peeking through the window, they were able to make out the shadow of each other’s faces.

 Then suddenly it didn’t matter; nothing mattered at all to Nigel except the crushing relief and the burning hunger. He didn’t wait for words, questions. From one breath to the next he captured Adam’s parted mouth. He pushed gently over Adam’s lips, tantalizingly wet and soft. It took Adam a few seconds to reaction, his tired heart barely processing the new hunger he could feel in Nigel. His body reacted for him; mouth opening and chasing lips, hands clumsily raising to curl around Nigel’s neck. Tongues dipped innocently, brushing against each other with lazily force.  

Nigel raised his hands to hold either side of Adam’s head, thumb brushing over cheekbone. He paused, surprised to find tears there. He pulled back and searched for Adam’s eyes in the dark.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Adam’s voice was small, fragile. Afraid.

The sound twisted gnarled guilt in his stomach, hearing the fear that he had so thoughtlessly left in his wake after running away.  He wrapped both arms around him tightly, protectiveness taking deep root in his heart. They rolled only slightly, so they could tangle closer.

“I won’t ever fucking leave again.”

Nigel’s impossible words sunk into Adam, with a relief that almost hurt. He continued to cry silently, in release of the tension built up over the hours he spent alone.  Each minute had ticked into him like pinpricks, as he sat alone in the darkening apartment. Waiting with disheartened impatience for some kind of sign that he didn’t mess everything up. That Nigel could actually love someone like him. That Nigel wouldn’t leave.

Adam turned his head to push a soft kiss against Nigel’s neck, seeking assurance that he was really there. The beating pulse against his lips ignited something primal in Adam, who was nearly overwhelmed by all his feelings. The arousal burning low in his belly calmed him, shifting his thoughts to base need. He straightened his body to crush flush against Nigel’s. He leaned in to kiss his neck again, this time pushing harder, sucking a touch longer. He lingered his lips, skimmed them, teasingly soft. He shoved long, sucking kisses against every inch of skin he could find, dragging bottom lip and tongue. Nigel hummed low in response.

Nigel’s arm under Adam straightened out, drifting his hand to dip under Adam’s shirt at the hip, giving soft massaging. His roaming rubs pushed farther down, and soon they were slipping under the band to Adam’s sleep pants. He ran his fingers lightly over the bare skin of ass, smiling to himself when he felt Adam shiver. He dipped his hand lower, massaging fistful of round cheek.  Adam rutted forward, rubbing his growing hardness against Nigel. They both groaned, immediately seeking each other’s lips again. Open mouth met open mouth, tongues already meeting and sliding. Nigel continued to grope lower, pulling back cheek to let the pad of his finger skim Adam’s opening. Teasingly swirls of fingers, dipping in just a touch.

Adam pulled away with a gasp, grinding carefully backwards to seek more of Nigel’s finger. Nigel pulled his hand away with one last squeeze.

“Do you have lube in here?” Nigel asked, accent thick.

Adam nodded. He leaned over Nigel to reach into the bedside table. He handed it to Nigel with a condom, who immediately started kissing him again. He ran his hands up Adam’s warm chest, breaking the kiss only to pull his shirt over his head. He took a second to take in the wide chest, pale skin and disheveled curls. He made quick work of his own shirt as well, and when they met again it was with bare skin.  They kissed with an insatiable need to be closer, to taste and take. They grabbed each other, exploring the curves and edges. Nigel lowered his hands back to massage into ass, pinning his pulsing hardness to grind along Adam’s.

"I fucking want you, Adam,” Nigel growled, pulling a breath away.  

Adam whined something soft, encouraging Nigel to quickly pull off Adam’s bottoms all together. When he leaned back, he settled his head on pillow and let Adam come to slot over him. Adam began to hungrily suck kisses along Nigel’s tattoo, as the older man fumbled with for the lube in the sheets. When he found it he held it over them, snapping the cap open and squeezing a fat pearl on his finger.  

“You want me inside you, gorgeous?” Nigel husked, teasingly circling Adam’s entrance already.

Adam gasped at the cold, the tingling need growing with each stroke of Nigel’s finger. After a few more soft rubs, Nigel gently started sliding the tip of his middle finger into the clenched, tight heat. He rubbed inward, pushing and pulling out. Adam writhed above him, the stinging stretch a burning welcome. He grinded down for more, and they continued like that until Nigel’s enter finger worked its way in, his index finger already pushing its tip in. Adam took it greedily, each deepening shove spinning his thoughts. Soon his back was arced and he was rocking back, getting a better angle of both fingers working inside him, scissoring and curling.  With a third finger working at the stretching and clenching entrance, Adam was riding Nigel’s hand, his heavy length bobbing between them.

“God you’re so perfect like this,” Nigel mused, sucking rows of kisses down his long, exposed neck.

“Nigel,” Adam breathed. “Please.”

“Please what, gorgeous?” Nigel teased.

In response, Adam shifted his weigh so that he could frantically work on Nigel’s zipper, his movement sliding Nigel’s fingers out of him. Once he got the pants open he pulled them down Nigel’s long legs, then returned for the briefs. Nigel’s thick hardness sprung free, dipping low against his belly. Adam looked down at in hungrily, and wasted no time getting to what he’d passed up on twice now. He moved downward on the bed, slotting himself between Nigel’s legs. His wet lips were already sucking on the head, burning lust replacing any inkling of teasing. He bobbed low, sucking and licking up the length. Nigel’s head slammed backwards on the pillow, moaning out his surprise and shooting pleasure.

Adam continued to take him deeper in his throat, pushing as far as he could, a hand coming up to swirl around the rest of the length he couldn’t take. It slid slippery with precum and spit, and Nigel was starting to groan in earnest, holding himself back from thrusting too hard upward.

“Baby-baby, you gotta stop,” he said quickly, gently pulling Adam back by his hair with a chuckle. “I was gunna cum way before I could fuck you senseless.”

Adam licked his lips, eyes blown wide with lust. He climbed up Nigel’s body, caught his lips, and allowed Nigel to roll him onto his back. The older man pulled away in search of the lube, and after pooling some in in palm, he returned to fit between Adam’s legs. He slid two fingers back inside, working them slowly in and out, wanting to stretch him as much as possible. Adam was already grinding down impatiently.

“Please,” he pleaded again.

Nigel bent down to place a soft kiss against Adam’s wet, parted lips. Beginning to shove his fingers in faster, pushing deeper.

“Please what?” he whispered against lips, desperate to hear more of Adam’s raspy begs.

Adam gasped as Nigel’s fingers hit just right.

“Fuck me.” It was more command than anything else.

Nigel’s fingers were immediately pulling out of him, and after a short pause and the crinkle of an opened wrapper, Adam could finally feel the blunt round head against his entrance. It clenched, widening around the pushing impossible thickness. The stretching burned, a pain coated in pleasure. Nigel went in unhurriedly, wanting to feel each microsecond of it, the mind-whitening pleasure of Adam’s tight heat swallowing him agonizingly slowly.

Once Adam has relaxed more around him, he started slowly pulling out, careful not to go too faster. His following thrusts came long, sliding, deep. Adam’s moans slipped out in succession with each inward shove, the sound wrapping itself around Nigel’s thoughts. Nigel swiveled his hips, rocking Adam into the mattress. Adam’s legs were pinned upward, his ankles bobbing against Nigel’s lower back. Nigel grinded down into of him, his arm braced under Adam’s head. His fingers squeeze into hair, holding a tight grip as he continued to slam into him with barely leashed force.  Nigel began panting his moans, hooded eyes watching Adam’s face in the dark. His eyes were squeezed shut, mouth hanging open.

Nigel began to shove down faster, unable to hold himself back any longer. Adam was so tight and wet, and each deep, clenching grind sent jolts through Nigel. Adam nearly shouted at the change of pace, each thrust rubbing hard against that sweet spot. He raised his hands above his head to hold onto the headboard’s bar. Bracing himself, he shoved hungrily to meet each forceful thrust. Each of their pleasures mounted together, tightening that wild heat deep within them.

“Fuck baby, I’m close,” Nigel grunted.

He reached his hand down and grasped Adam’s length between them. After a few pumps Adam was trembling, his body tensing and rushing furiously over the edge. He spilled hot up his chest, clenching his muscle around Nigel’s thrusting cock. That paired with Adam’s shouting call crowded Nigel’s senses, and he was cumming deep inside Adam only moments later.

 He slumped his weight onto Adam and breathed heavily. After a few moments of their dizzying return to earth, he pulled slowly out. Nigel landed on his back, before rolling out of bed, pulling off the condom and tying it. Adam’s eyes watched his lean figure pad naked across the room to toss it in the trash bin.

“Towels?” he asked, turning around.

Adam sleepily pointed to the closet, where Nigel retrieved a small white one and brought it to Adam. Adam cleaned up as Nigel looked around for his briefs and Adam’s sleep pants. They both dressed, and then easily fell back into the bed together.

Adam curled under Nigel’s arm, draping his arm over chest. Nigel sighed in contentment, moving one arm to burrow under his pillow, the other to hold Adam close. Adam's eyes were closed, exhaustion making him drift already. They lay in silence for a long time, and Adam was nearly asleep when he heard Nigel whisper, half-awake,“I’ll see you tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry this took so long to post!))  
> Look forward to the epilogue! Coming reeeaallll soon  
> And thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you liked it!


End file.
